Home
by belgian quaffle
Summary: Home was a rather relative word for the girl who bounced between countries to divorced parents (who continue to do so, going for the record there Mom?), but perhaps, as Carson Wood is coming to find, the word can mean more than just a house with furniture inside. Or, of family, friendship, finding love, and a bit of Quidditch.
1. one

I hate portkeys.

Seriously, apparition all the way for this girl.

Apparition is so easy; you just reappear where you want to go. The portkey requires being in a certain spot and a specific time, rememberingthose precise details, and managing to make sure you have everything in one trip.

Not to mention the landing. I've never stuck a landing on a portkey trip and at this point in my life, I'm convinced I never will.

Dad is waiting for me in the Ministry of Magic Portkey Office, to get my new residential status settled. He pulls me into a hug immediately and I drop the hairbrush I've been holding, despite the Ministry personnel person next to me, waiting with an open hand.

Dad and I have never had the most conventional relationship. Quidditch superstar and Scottish Keeper extraordinaire Oliver Wood met my mother, the stunning, American supermodel Rachel Pohl. It'd been instant attraction, two months of passionate dating leading right into marriage and quickly followed by a little bundle of joy.

They named her Carson Grace, divorced three months later, and thus, I spent my life rotating back and forth between Dad in Great Britain and wherever Mom's newest husband lived.

Until now, when it's all gone to shit.

"I know this—this isn't great," Dad brings up the topic I know he was just waiting to talk about the minute we walk out of the office of the Department of Magical Transportation. "And I'm sorry we had to move you before your Seventh Year, Carson—"

"It's fine," I tell him, because, yeah, it does suck, but there was really no way around this. "It's better than living with Mom, right?"

Dad tries, unsuccessfully, to fight back a smile. Talking about my mom is probably our least favorite thing to discuss ever, but he'll take any hint that he's the favorite parent, even though I've made it perfectly clear many times. "Leesh and I tried to get you before," He says quietly, causing my head to whip to the left to look at him. "The lawyers told us we wouldn't be able to without some kind of complaint and child services being involved and—"

Again I cut him off. "It's ok," He doesn't look any happier when I shoot him a small smile as we make our way to the Apparition point to leave the Ministry. "Besides, I'm here now, aren't I?"

"Yeah, you are," He wraps an arm around my shoulders and squeezes me into his side tight; I'm reminded of days when I was a little kid, running to his side when he came to pick me up from Mom's. It's no secret he and Mom had their disagreements (to put it lightly), and like he said, I knew he'd been trying to convince her to hand over custody of me for years. Mom had finally agreed…not that she had much of a choice. "Let's get going, yeah? Kids are excited to see you!"

"Great," I say.

Dad grins. "We're all excited!"

I lean further into him. "No, I am too,"

* * *

Growing up, Dad and I spent most of our summers at the house near Puddlemere United's stadium. It's large and navy blue, with white trim, a huge balcony overlooking the water, with a private dock leading to the beach. The inside is spacious and open, with plenty of natural light and windows. Not exactly the ideal Quidditch star bachelor pad. He would train in the mornings, and I would tag along, either entertaining myself quietly or loudly demanding attention that usually meant he and whoever else was there would bring me up in the air with them and let me practice shooting the Quaffle.

Dad's a bit disappointed, but between that and Quodpot's basis in throwing, it was no wonder I'd be a Quidditch Chaser.

Afternoons would be spent on the beach, where his private entrance and secluded location made it so even our afternoons were filled with Quidditch: Quaffle catches, toy broom flights over the edge of the tide, and throwing an old Snitch up in the air for me to catch.

Now that Dad's only the General Manager for Puddlemere, they don't spend much time at the beach house. He'd married Alicia when I was 7, who was perfect for him, and everything my mom was not.

Alicia had been one of Dad's Chasers when he was Captain at Hogwarts. She loved Quidditch; her background playing gave her the knowledge to follow Dad's career and the fact that Dad had been her Captain erased any possibility of her being starstruck by him. She had no desire to pursue a professional Quidditch career of her own, opting instead to work for the Department of Magical Games and Sports. She was beautiful, smart, and funny. She kept Dad on his toes constantly.

I just loved that she didn't try to take him away from me.

In the years since, we've grown closer. She's like a combo mother-older sister figure. I'm only slight resentful of the younger siblings they've given me.

Just kidding. Those brats are adorable.

Dad and Alicia have three other kids in addition to me, their part-time-turned-full-time child.

Parker is the oldest. At age 10, he's already exactly like Dad. He's very competitive, very determined, and relatively unreasonable when you tell him he's wrong. Pretty fun to wind up, though.

Erin is second. She's 8, and queen of the house, you'd think, from the way she acts. Cute as a button, but my God does she know how to push buttons.

Colton is the baby, but now that he's 5, he'll tell anyone who listens otherwise. He's "this many," he'll say, holding up a whole hand, and proceed to explain that that's practically six so he deserves an extra cookie or to stay up late or to watch that show that Dad and Alicia won't let him watch.

I'm usually ready to wring all of their necks within about a day, but I'm also the first to sneak them extra candy when Dad and Alicia aren't looking. True siblingship.

They spend their most of their summers now at the country estate in Scotland, rather than our beach house. The large estate is on a lake, still giving us access to water and swimming, and offers plenty of space to play Quidditch in the yard if we want. Alicia has a home office to work from and Dad pops down to the stadium when he needs to, but their summer schedule is much lighter until they get rid of me and move back to the main house in eastern England.

The main house is nice and I love the new summer home, but the beach house is still my favorite. Once Dad and Alicia moved, I used to always make sure he took me down there every summer, just for old time's sake.

Alicia and the kids are waiting in the living room when we arrive. "Hi!" I beam excitedly, throwing my backpack. It hits dad in the stomach behind me.

Alicia pushes through all three of her kids to get to me. "Hi!" She cries.

"Mom!" Parker's voice cracks with his exclamation and I can't help but laugh, even as Alicia throws her arms around me.

She continues to age wonderfully, her dark hair flowing gracefully down her back. She has a little bit of Spanish in her, from her mother's side, and it shows in both her temper and her skin tone, which has taken on its summer glow beautifully. Her eyes sparkle as she pulls back from me, still grasping my shoulders, and looking me up and down, tsking as she does. "Still too thin, what are you eating?"

"You sound like your mother now,"

She flicks my nose. "Don't you ever say that again," Her arm wraps around my shoulder as she turns to face her other children and I lean into her touch. We're the same height, not short, but not tall, much to my mother's disappointment—because of this, even despite all her efforts, my modeling career had never taken off like she wanted it to.

My half-siblings are a perfect mix of Dad and Alicia. Parker's got Dad's light brown hair and Alicia's dark eyes while Erin and Colton got Alicia's dark hair and Dad's hazel eyes. They're growing up so fast, but even Parker runs for me the second Alicia releases me.

"We missed you," Parker says, stepping back from the hug. Colton's still hanging on my legs and I reach one hand out to each of their heads to ruffle their hair as I respond.

"I missed you guys too," They all beam back at me.

"Can we go play now?" Colton asks, looking up at me.

"Let's let her get settled in," Alicia says, pulling him off my leg. "And you, sir, need a nap,"

"I don't wanna,"

I yawn. "I could use a nap,"

Colton looks at me skeptically. "Really?"

Dad nods. "I'm going to take her upstairs and she'll probably sleep right then," I nod my agreement before he agrees to follow Alicia upstairs. The "thank you" she mouths has me grinning. "You ready to go up, kiddo?"

"Lead the way, daddo,"

He rolls his eyes, but levitates my things, allowing me to follow him up to my usual room. They've re-decorated a bit. The walls are now a dusty gray, the furniture a dark mahogony, with a new blush pink duvet and plenty of pillows. I'm speechless as I walk inside. "We figured you'd like to decorate it yourself," Dad says, sounding a little nervous. "But we thought it was time the ballerina wall paper came down."

"It's perfect," I throw my arms around him.

"Well, I can't take much of the credit," He laughs. "Alicia did most of it. I was only good for manual labor,"

"Per usual," I tease.

"Hush, you." He pauses. "You need anything?"

I shake my head. "I think I will take that nap,"

He smiles softly at me. "We'll come wake you for dinner,"

The bed is soft and comfortable when I flop down on it, practically engulfing me into it. I arrange myself comfortably, slip under the covers, and roll onto my side.

It's been less than an hour at this house and I feel more at home than I have anywhere in years.

* * *

"You look bored out of your mind," Dad sits down on the patio sofa next to me, pulling my feet onto his lap to make more room for himself. We're on the screened-in porch, which offers a great view of the lake, and has become my favorite place to drink my morning coffee, before finally going up to my room to get dressed for the day.

"I'm not bored," I reply, automatically. It's not exactly a lie, but it's not really the truth either. I'd entirely decorated my room already, and I spent my days with the siblings playing all sorts of games, both indoors and out. We watched movies; No-Maj and magical; and television, the Quidditch Network a popular choice amongst all of us except Erin, but other channels as well.

All of that being said, I did miss my friends. People my own age. I love Alicia, but shopping with your stepmom is just not the same as shopping with your friends, no matter how cool she may be.

Dad gives me a look. "Carson," He says warningly.

I sigh, pulling my knees into my chest. "I don't want to sound ungrateful. I'm happy to be here, Dad, really,"

He nods, thoughtfully. "Well, that settles it. Go get dressed," It's my turn to give him a look. "We called the new Keeper up from the Reserve team for this year and I said I'd work with him today when I was down there. Get dressed; you can come down with me,"

My face brightens and I jump up. "Give me 15 minutes!"

"Ten!" Dad calls back.

It's probably closer to 12 when I come back downstairs, dressed in black capri leggings, a royal blue sports bra, and a flowy turquoise tank. My blue eyes are sparkling extra bright, not only from the blue sports bra shirt combo, but from my excitement, and I'm still pulling my light brown hair (his hair color is the only physical trait I'd inherited from Dad, much to Mom's chagrin, who'd prayed I'd be born a blonde like her) into a high ponytail as I bounce down the stairs to meet Dad. "Ready!" I chirp, summoning my broom.

"About time," He grumbles.

"Rude,"

He rolls his eyes, but he's laughing as he holds his arm out for me to take. "Oh, whatever, you," Then, we're moving, swirling into nothingness and reappearing into the depths of Puddlemere's stadium.

They've made some upgrades, but the familiarity is still there, even though it's been years since I've been to the stadium. The facility looks nicer, cleaner, but everything I love about it is in place. Pictures and memorabilia line the walls, from the old, old greats, to the relatively new ones, like my Dad and Justin Thomas. The men's locker room still smells like sweat and boy when we walk past. The strategy room, where they hold all their team meetings is as pristine as ever, chairs looking only more comfortable. I remember when I used to sit in them and spin around and around until I got dizzy.

Even Dad's office, with its dark tinted windows overlooking the pitch, is familiar from his playing days when it belonged to Conrad Buckmanshire. He's made some design changes (the couch along the wall is more comforting and less intimidating), added some personal photos of our family (spotted: my favorite of the two of us when I'm four and we're at the beach playing Quidditch), and made it a generally more inviting place than Conrad's office ever was, but the boss sentiment is definitely still there.

I wait impatiently as he answers a few emails, returns a phone call, and responds to an owl. It's too early in America to text my own friends and expect a response, so I tap my foot and ignore the looks he sends me, until he finally stands. "Merlin, you are annoying,"

"One of my best qualities," I beam, following him down to the training rooms. He stores a broom here in the facility, just in case he wants to jump in training with the team. He'd come casual today, dressed ready to train in gym shorts and a t-shirt, so when he grabs his broom, he leads me right to the pitch.

If the beach house is my favorite place on Earth, Puddlemere's pitch is a close second. This is where I'd learned to play Quidditch, how to throw a Quaffle. It's where we celebrated Dad's Quidditch Cup wins. It was my escape from mom and her craziness, from all my different step-fathers, and the chaos.

Now, it just seems peaceful. I take a deep breath the second my sneakers step onto the grass and release it slowly. Just being here is like catharsis—out with the toxicity, in with the new life.

Dad is halfway across the pitch when I open my eyes and I jog to catch up. His new Keeper is already doing his dynamic warm-up, but stops when Dad and I get close to shake Dad's hand. "My _daughter_ ," He stresses the word, introducing us. "Carson,"

"Hi," I smile, holding my own hand out.

"Hi," Keeper returns both sentiments. "Brett Keller,"

Very good looking. Blond hair, neatly kept, with blue eyes. He's tall and well built, definitely kept up with his training. Unlike Dad and I, he's fully geared and ready to practice.

"Anybody else joining today?" Dad asks, looking around, like maybe he missed somebody on the completely empty pitch.

Brett shrugs. "Rino's coming down once his girl leaves for work and Blooms mentioned he might stop by. Maybe Lauren,"

Dad nods. "Well no use waiting. They can jump in when they're ready. Kells, up in the air. Carson, grab a Quaffle,"

"You any good?" Brett mutters, as we kick off.

"I'm alright,"

He's grinning at me an hour later, when Dad's on the ground talking with Zach Bloomberg and Anthony Rinelli, the two beaters. "You are alright,"

I toss my ponytail over my shoulder. "Did you expect anything less?"

He laughs. "I shouldn't have," His eyes follow the Quaffle I'm tossing between hands. "You've got an interesting technique,"

"Quick release," I say. Dad's told me before. It's not necessarily the best technique for Quidditch but it gets the job done. "The Quodpot style,"

"The Carson System," He grins.

"Nobody's going to be naming anything after me except maybe a drink,"

Brett barks out a laugh as Dad returns to the air, looking satisfied. "Rino and Blooms are letting out a bludger. Carson and I are going two-on-one against you," We both nod in response. The last hour's been spent him critiquing Brett's technique and giving pointers as I fired shot after shot. It'll be nice to get some simulated game play in.

I'd met Zach Bloomberg before; he's been on the team for a few years now. I'd hesitate, really, on calling anyone on this team old (they'd brought Dad in for a rebuild after things had steadily declined after his retirement), but if I suppose if I had to name someone, he'd be one of them. He waves at me from across the pitch with his bat and then takes off for a warm-up lap.

Anthony Rinelli flies immediately over to me and introduces himself, his position, and his team-preferred nickname. He's a relatively recent addition to the team; I know he spent his first couple years in the League in Ballycastle, but I remember how excited Dad was to get him, saying how his and Zach's playing styles were perfect fits.

"Go take a lap, Rino," Dad glares, as Rino and I are discussing preferred broom polishes. Rino grins and takes off immediately and Dad shifts his gaze to me.

"What a nice, polite group of young men you have here,"

"Don't even think about it,"

"Who me?" I smile innocently. "I would never,"

* * *

Alicia is in the kitchen when we return, stirring slowing and peering into a large pot. "Oh good," She beams and Dad and I exchange a look. "I was just about to call for you," Another look between us. "I was talking with Angelina today—"

"Oh Merlin!" Dad groans.

"You love Ang!"

"It's more how the two of you are when you're together," Dad explains.

Alicia grins. "Well I invited them for dinner tonight so you'll get to see us soon! Fred is Carson's age; it'll be good for her to have a friend!"

Dad frowns. "Carson can make her own friends."

"Just this morning you told me I was a friendless loser!"

"Shut up and go take a shower!" He waves me off.

"Oliver!" Alicia cries and turns her gaze to me. "But yes, Carson, you may want to shower,"

"Are you guys telling me I smell or something?" I grumble at them. They ignore me, continuing their discussion about the menu for tonight, so I take my leave. A shower does sound nice, actually, but not because they told me to, because I want one.

Great, now I'm a two year old.

* * *

Alicia shoos me out of the kitchen to "help dad with the grilling" after I try to add baking powder instead of baking soda into the dessert she's making. It's probably for the best; I'd already spilled flour all over the kitchen and myself, so after heading back to my room to change into a pair of white jeans, a light chambray button down, and tan sandals, I make my way to Dad on the deck.

"Kicked out?" I nod, settling into the Adirondack chair that's nearest the cooler and helping myself to a beer. Dad snickers, holding his hand out for another drink, and I oblige, before settling into my chair, crossing my legs. "Not surprised. We should just ban you from the kitchen permanently,"

I frown. "Then how would I make myself coffee?"

"Good point, I don't want anything to do with that. Alright, you get full access to the coffee maker, that's it,"

"Deal," I grin. "This is my dream! Everyone makes me food forever, all I have to do is make coffee when I want it!"

"Wait a minute," Dad says slowly, as the door opens, and I hasten to hide the beer behind my chair. Alicia pops out, two tall men behind her. One is about Dad's age, still very ginger, but definitely fading, with clear blue eyes, a bright smile, and noticeably, only one ear. The other is my age, with darker skin, dark brown eyes, and a more hesitant look on his face. "Did you just—"

"Dad, really, we have company, now's not the time," I smile sweetly.

"Thank you, Carson," Alicia smiles; Dad grumbles. "It's been a while, but you've met George before," I bite the inside of my lip, not really remembering this at all, but nodding in agreement anyway; Alicia would probably know better than I do and despite not remembering this, I've always referred to them as Aunt Angelina and Uncle George. "And this, is Freddy; he'll be in your year in Hogwarts this year,"

"Hello," I wave awkwardly, dragging the word into two uncomfortable syllables.

"Smooth," Dad mutters.

"Shut up," I mutter back.

Alicia beams at us. "I'll leave you four out here; Carson, no touching dinner." I salute her with my free hand and she turns to leave the deck. Uncle George immediately makes his way to one of the other Adirondack chairs on the deck in this corner and Freddy hesitantly sits in the one next to me.

Dad cracks up as soon as the door shuts and I pull my beer out. "Phew!" I say, examining the bottle, and Uncle George joins him in laughter. "We're safe,"

"She would have yelled at me for this, not you," Dad says.

"No, I meant my beer!"

Uncle George and Freddy laugh while Dad just rolls his eyes. It's becoming his standard move for anything I say. "Be a good host and offer them one too,"

"Yes, father," Another eye roll, but I exchange a grin with Uncle George and Freddy as I pass them both beers.

"Is there a bottle opener?" Freddy asks, looking around, fancy German beer of choice hanging still unopen in his fingers.

"Oh yeah, here," I reach over for it, place my right palm over the cap, and in one quick, smooth move, use the edge of the deck to open the bottle. "Here you go,"

Uncle George cracks up, Freddy looks impressed. Dad has this look on his face, as if everything I do physically pains him. "Please, for the sake of my old man heart, could you just _pretend_ this is your first beer?"

I take a sip of my beer. "Ew, hops,"

"Oh for Merlin's sake," He turns back to the grill as Freddy and Uncle George both burst into laughter with me.

I beam. "Aren't you so glad you brought me here?"

Dad flips his middle finger up at me as he opens the grill.

"Such love," Uncle George says. "Nice to know you treat your children the same way you treated your Quidditch team,"

The finger moves over in his direction as Freddy and I laugh. "Just this child," Dad closes the grill and joins our circle, sitting down in the only green chair.

"The special one," I flip my hair over my shoulder.

"The diva one," Dad argues.

"Hey!" I protest. "Erin is, _for sure_ , the diva one!"

"Alright, fair point," Dad agrees.

"You know, I actually think I'm one of your lower maintenance children. Like no offense, because he's just like you, but Parker's a little high strung, and Erin's Erin, so I'm _at least_ bottom 50%,"

"Drink your damn beer and stop talking,"

"Yes, daddy," I hide a smile into my beer, rolling my eyes as Dad and Uncle George begin arguing over the right way to cook the burgers for dinner tonight. When I look over at Freddy, he's got the same amused expression on his face as he meets my eyes and we both look away for fear of bursting into laughter.

Suck it, Dad and Alicia, I'm not a friendless loser anymore; I have one friend.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hi! Thanks for coming to read this! I'm excited to share this with you and hope you all love it. I'd love to hear what you think so if you would drop a review, that would be lovely!


	2. two

"Now your shorts are dirty and—"Deciding this is my cue to enter, I slip around the corner into the kitchen. Alicia has her hands on her hips, looking down at Parker, who has just the slightest spot of dirt on his tan shorts.

"Anything I can do to help?" I ask innocently, like I hadn't been eavesdropping for the last few minutes.

Alicia sighs, but drops her hands to her side, nodding. "Yes." She runs her fingers through her hair. We'd gone for blowouts as part of a girl's day when Dad had stayed at Puddlemere overnight a few days ago and hers still looks flawless. It's perfectly straight, smooth, and shiny, and currently hanging down to her mid-back, even if she looks stressed as can be trying to get this party together.

Dinner with Aunt Angelina and Uncle George had led to the four of them reminiscing about their old Quidditch days, resulting in the desire for a reunion. Dad and Alicia had offered to host, and though finding a date that worked for everyone had been difficult, the old Championship team and all their families would be back together again, only a week before they'd send us kids off to school. "Just in time for you to make more friends," Dad had joked, when they finally set the date.

The late date meant Dad was around less and less, having more meetings, leaving Alicia to plan and prepare most of the party herself.

Luckily, the friendless loser was here to help.

I wait for her to answer my question expectantly. "Yes," She repeats, but then pauses, still frowning slightly at Parker. "Parker, go upstairs and change your shorts."

"They're just going to get dirty later anyway," He mutters, but smartly decides to do as she asks.

"Why don't you go upstairs and get ready? I suggest smoothly to Alicia. "The food is ready and I'm already dressed," I gesture to the flowy white dress with lace overlay—nice but still casual—I'd pulled on. "I can make the sangria."

"Ok, yeah," She nods, looking a little spaced out. "That—that's a good idea,"

She doesn't move, so I give her a little push. "Go!" I hear her laughing as we both walk away.

The backyard is set up beautifully; Alicia had put us all to work today to make it so. Fairy lights are strung up around the dock, with chairs for people to sit and enjoy the lake. Closer to the house, she'd forced Dad to make a bon fire, for when it got a little chillier tonight, and even bought s'mores supplies. She'd set up a large drinks table, an even larger food table, the whole event with a very casual, rustic theme.

The large empty drink dispenser is where I make my way to and is where Parker and Erin find me a bit later, still mixing.

"What are you doing?" She asks. She's wearing a white dress with pink and orange tassels on the short sleeves. It's probably the closest thing she has to what I'm wearing, because dressing like me is her new favorite thing to do.

"Making a drink," She opens her mouth and anticipating what's next, I add, "For the adults."

"You're not an adult," Parker accuses.

"Well I'm close enough," I stir. It still needs something. "And besides, we're celebrating my birthday here tonight, so technically, I am,"

It had actually been Uncle George's idea to celebrate my birthday when everyone got together for this. My actual 17th birthday being tomorrow, he'd announced he was showing up with a present, whether I liked it or not, and that if Alicia wasn't planning on making a cake for him to sing with, then he'd show up with his own.

The birthday plans were settled fairly quickly after that. No one wants to risk Uncle George bringing a cake, apparently.

"Why do you keep licking the spoon?" Parker asks.

I stir absentmindedly, as the door opens and Freddy walks out closely followed by another guy our age, just as attractive as he is. This one is just as tall as Freddy, with black messy hair, hazel eyes, and a broad, muscular build. Both boys are wearing colorful shorts, and button downs with the sleeves rolled to their forearms.

"Because it's not right yet," I answer Parker, watching as Freddy finally sees me and his face lights up. We'd become fast friends at our last meeting and the way he skips over to me has me laughing and the guy behind him shaking his head, like he's used to this kind of behavior from Freddy but he'll never understand.

"Hi!" Freddy beams, stopping right at the edge of the table.

"Hi," I say, much less excitedly, probably looking more amused than anything.

He stares at me expectantly; I return the look. "Well?" He says finally.

I look over at his friend, who shrugs his shoulders, looking as confused as I feel. "Well, what?"

"I'm waiting for you to show me whatever fun beer opening trick you have to show off," I'd spent almost an hour teaching him my last one. "I showed James how awesome I am; I want another," He gestures to the guy next to him, who only shakes his head.

"I'm busy making sangria," I point to the beer, settled in a container with a cooling charm. "You're on your own, have at it,"

Another spoonful. Maybe some bubbly would give it the kick I'm looking for. I pop a champagne and pour the bottle slowly. Perfect. Last step, add the fruit, another few stirs and it's perfect.

"That's a lot of alcohol," Parker says, eyeing up the empty bottles next to me.

"How'd you know what to use without a recipe?" Erin asks.

"Someday, when you guys are in your twenties, and you've had as much to drink as I have, you just know what mixes well,"

Parker frowns. "Your math doesn't add up; you're only 16,"

I summon a cup from the end of the table and push the button on the dispenser for the fresh sangria. "Yes, but your mother is much nicer than mine, so I'm assuming you'll start drinking much later and less frequently than I did," My siblings exchange a look. "You guys should run inside now," And for once, without questions, they do.

Freddy's laughing when I turn around and James looks amused as well, albeit slightly confused. "He's going to kill me," I smile.

"You think?" Freddy asks.

I nod and sure enough, seconds later, Dad's head pops out the back door. "Hey!"

"Yes?" I turn to him.

"Keep your pseudo-alcoholism away from my other kids, alright?"

"Got it, daddio!" A thumbs- up has him rolling his eyes as he shuts the door.

Freddy beams when I turn back. "I think that went well!"

* * *

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY TOOOO," Uncle George drags the end of the song out. "YOUU!"

No one claps as I finally blow out the candles. The rest of them had finished singing ages ago; Uncle George picked his own tune to sing to, only finishing just now.

"About time," Harry Potter says, wearily.

"You know, that's an awful lot of attitude for someone I allowed to marry my sister,"

"George!" Ginny cries, exasperatedly. It's clear this is a common family argument.

"Oh god, please stop," James looks a little horrified, looking between his dad and uncle, and I'm strangely curious how far they take this. "Carson, please, pass out the cake and open a present. Stop them before they begin,"

I oblige his request, pulling the first one toward me. "It's from Aunt Ang and Uncle George," I announce, already knowing that means it's going to be a big present. We'd actually told everyone not to bring presents; Alicia said she wasn't surprised to see everyone show up with one. I'd scowled at this statement, not wanting this exact kind of attention.

My eyes light up, though, at the new pair of Chaser's gloves in front of me. The focal point of their gift, it's top and center of the box, but when I remove them and gently place them on the table, the rest of it is filled with my favorite things from Britain that you can't get in America—certain sweets, some Weasley's Wizards products, a few candles, my favorite and only hair product to use.

"Thanks, guys," I beam, reaching for the next one.

Harry, Ginny, and kids (as quoted from the card) gave me a year's subscription to a LoveMyself box. "Each month they'll send you different things," Ginny explains. "Comfy, workout clothes; new foods; chocolates,"

"That's my dream," I tell her, in total seriousness.

She laughs. "You'll have to let me know how it is.

Katie and Roger's present is up next and I make a big show of fawning over their present—an array of giftcards to different places for the village next to Hogwarts to use on my first weekend trip there—just to annoy Dad. He and Roger had never gotten along in school apparently, and while he tolerates him more now, the guy still irks him.

There are still two more envelopes in the pile, and I look over at Dad and Alicia, confused. "Not from us," She confirms. "Have to wait until tomorrow,"

I pick the first one up, immediately grinning when I see who it's from. "Well?" Dad asks.

"It's from Two," I say, still reading.

"What?" Alicia asks.

"Two?" I hold up two fingers. "You know, Dad Number Two?"

Dad's laughing, already knowing exactly who I was talking about, but Alicia's face contorts fantastically, sending everyone else into giggles. "Exactly when did you begin calling your stepfathers _by their number_?"

I shrug, "Maybe number 7 or 8? When I realized none of them were sticking around long enough to bother,"

Alicia looks like she's struggling. "I—you—what?"

I wave the paper. "Two sends me a birthday card every year. He's nice, I like him." I pause. "He's also the CEO of the clothing company I get like 75% of my wardrobe from and he lets me charge it all to the corporate account, so I mean, that's a keeper, in my opinion." I think Uncle George is crying, he's laughing so hard.

Alicia frowns. "Why do you even keep in touch with these people?"

"I mean I don't talk to all of them! I keep in touch with Two a little, but like he's always been pretty good to me; he really puts the effort in, you can't help but be nice back. I don't really talk to anyone else." I pick up the other letter, recognizing the return address immediately and ripping it in half. "And Fourteen sends me birthday cards sometimes, but as far as I'm concerned, he can go fu—"

"Language!" She cries.

"—find a hole to die in?" I finish uncertainly. Dad cracks up, joining Uncle George in his uncontrolled laughter. Most of the table at least has a smile on their face.

Even Alicia seems like she can't hold one back as she shakes her head at me. "Why would you think that would be _any_ better,"

I shrug. "I panicked,"

She huffs a laugh. "My God, you are your father's daughter."

* * *

Voices float over the hill first and I turn in the Adirondack chair as best I can, bottle of rosé in hand. Despite the company still in house, I'd come out back with a bottle of wine after cake and presents—the letter from Fourteen bothered me more than I cared to admit to anyone.

Climbing over the hill are Dad and the boys from the Quidditch team, Freddy and James as well, and the box in Dad's hand gives me no doubts they're coming down here for cigars, away from their wives and mothers.

Dad doesn't even look surprised to find me out here as I stand and smooth my dress while he leads the way over to me, but he does eye the wine bottle suspectly. "What have I said about drinking here?"

I shrug, a bright smile on my face. "There's company, use a glass?" James snorts to fight back a laugh as Dad rolls his eyes.

" _Put it_ in a glass so Alicia doesn't see," His neck cranes toward the house worriedly, but there's no way anyone can see us this far down by the lake.

And besides…

"Well I doubt she cares considering we each took down a bottle of Malbec when you were at that meeting on Wednesday," I take a swig from the bottle.

Dad shakes his head in disbelief as he starts passing out cigars. "We need to find you a hobby." He offers me one and I nod, switching hands with my wine bottle to take the cigar. "Preferably one that doesn't involve drinking my expensive alcohol or costing me money otherwise,"

"I had a hobby," I take a puff from the cigar and slowly blow out. "But then you brought me here and I have no stepfathers to annoy by dating men I don't even really like."

Dad snickers. "As your father, I'm not quite sure how I feel about that. I don't really love that you're dating, but you can just keep on not liking any of them,"

Another swig of wine and I beam at him. "Just a bit of fun with whoever would annoy Daddy Number Whatever the most. Poor boy from the wrong side of town. The No-Maj baseball player. 24 year old college student,"

Dad grabs the bottle of wine from my hands. "24 year old?"

I nod enthusiastically, "He's the one who signed off on my tattoo!"

Dad chokes on the wine he just swallowed; Uncle George cracks up. "You are wonderful!" He beams.

"You are a piece of work," Dad tells me.

"So I've been told," I say, inspecting my fingernails casually. "And you are far too easy. I had plans to bring Brett the Keeper here, announce my pregnancy at the dinner table for both of you. The look of shock on both your faces would have been enough to keep me going for weeks,"

"Is this what I have to look forward to?" Harry says, bemused.

"Alicia!" Dad cries at the same time, guzzling my wine.

"Oliver," Uncle George says. "I'm dead serious, I'll offer you Fred as a son-in-law right now—"

"Hey!"

"Yes, dear?" My lovely step-mother finally appears at the top of the hill, hand on one hip and looking down. Dad's got the bottle back at his mouth and I've just taken another puff of my cigar. A smile appears on her face as she shakes her head in amusement. "Carson, split a Malbec with me tonight while we clean-up?" I nod, grinning my excitement. "Excellent! Oliver, don't be so dramatic,"

"Yeah, dad, don't be so dramatic,"

"Oh for Merlin's sake!"

* * *

Exactly three days before school is due to start, a man turns up on our door step in long, billowing robes, carrying a large bag. He has the air of someone who always looks slightly flustered, bumbling slightly as Dad lets him in the house, greeting him with a handshake, like he knows this strange man personally.

And after he shoos nosy Parker and Erin away and gestures for me to follow them into his study, it turns out he does. Professor Neville Longbottom was a few years below him in school, but he is now the Herbology teacher at Hogwarts, in addition to being the Assistant Headmaster.

Hence, why he got the job to come chat with me before school actually begins.

Once he's settled into Dad's study with the two of us, Professor Longbottom looks a little more comfortable. He's friendly and animated as he talks, first a little about himself and his family, and then more about Hogwarts. He asks me about what I was taking at Ilvermorny and what levels I was at and then explains the House system at Hogwarts and how they were formed.

Then, he whips a dirty old hat out of his bag.

I look skeptically at him, before turning the gaze over to my Dad. Dad's got a huge grin on his face as he watches me. "What?"

"This is exciting!" He says. "It's the only one of my kids' Sorting's I'll see live in person." My skepticism increases and clearly must show in my face because he continues. "Let me live,"

"God, please never say that again,"

Professor Longbottom interrupts. "Are you ready, Carson?" When I nod, he places the hat on my head.

 _Hmmmm_. It says. Shit, it talks. _What have we here? A Seventh Year, not Sorted? Ahh! A transfer from Ilvermorny._ Whoa, creepy. _Certainly witty enough for Ravenclaw_. Hey, Hat, since you seem to be able to read in my deepest, darkest thoughts, let's not mention Spring Break 2021 to my dad, thanks? _Perhaps not studious enough though._ Well, I'm offended.

 _Hmm._ It says suddenly. _You've got all the qualities._ What qualities? _Yes, I think it'll be—"_ GRYFFINDOR,"

"Yes!" Dad fist pumps as Professor Longbottom removes the hat from my head.

I glare at him. "Don't do that either,"

"I didn't want to put any pressure on you or anything, but it was Gryffindor or Alicia and I were disowning you,"

Professor Longbottom jumps in before we can even get going. "It's an excellent House; my own, actually. I'll be your Head of House, so if you have any questions, please feel free to come visit my office,"

I nod. "Cool, thanks."

He smiles. "And I believe you already have a friend or two in the same House," At my frown of confusion, he continues. "James and Fred?"

"Is it too late to change Houses?"

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for reading! Glad you liked chapter one and hope you enjoy this one too! Leave a review and let me know what you think!


	3. three

The morning of my first day of school is…interesting to say the least. Before we leave for the train, Alicia decides to act out the scene in _Mean Girls_ , a movie we'd watched last week, where Cady's parents first send her off to school and dramatically hands me a bagged lunch she made herself, featuring Doritos, a vanilla yogurt, and Oreos and says, "Our phone numbers are programmed into your phone and don't hesitate to call us if you have any problems,"

My laughter is loud and she soon joins, both of us earning glares from Dad, who isn't quite awake yet. Alicia slides a mug of coffee to me as Dad and I butter bagels.

"Was the lunch really necessary?"

Dad shrugs. "We've never sent a kid to school before; we're unsure of the protocol,"

I snicker. "Off mark,"

He flicks a crumb at me. "Is your trunk packed?"

I hesitate. "Mostly."

"Get a move on!" Alicia shoos me out. "We leave in an hour!"

"Dad told me 10!"

"Oliver!"

In just over an hour, we're all almost ready, only waiting for Erin to come downstairs. Alicia looks like she's about to tear up, watching me gather the last of my things in the kitchen. "It's not like this is forever," I say hesitantly. Mom never cried when I left for school; in fact, she practically pushed me out the door. "You can owl me. Or text."

"It's just not going to be the same," She says.

"Yeah, it'll be better," Dad jumps in.

"Hey!" I protest. "You love having me here and I am a pleasure to be related to,"

He rolls his eyes, but he's grinning. "Get moving. We have to carry all your stuff out front so we can apparate,"

"Oh fine," I sigh dramatically. "Did you want to get a picture of me standing by the front door before I left?"

"DAMN IT, I KNEW WE FORGOT SOMETHING!" Dad cries.

"I'LL GET THE CAMERA!" Alicia screams.

God, I love this family.

* * *

Platform 9 ¾ is already bustling when we arrive. Colton is holding onto Alicia's hand like his life depends on it, while the older two are wide eyed and excited as they look all around. It doesn't hit me until we've been there for a good bit that this is their first time here, their first experience with Hogwarts.

They're in awe of the giant red train in front of us, almost fearful of all the students around us and sticking close to me as we move through the crowd. "Next year, this'll be you," Dad says, ruffling Parker's hair, and he grins, looking back at the train.

Uncle George, Aunt Angelina, and Freddy come over to greet us, a little before Freddy and I are due on the train. The adults quickly begin talking, leaving Freddy and I with Erin and Parker, who immediately turn their attention to him.

"Are you going to Hogwarts too?" Erin asks.

"Yep,"

She sighs dramatically before poking my leg. "Can I come with you?"

"Sorry boo," I tell her. "You've got to wait a few more years." She frowns. "You'll have more fun this way. Don't you want to wait until you're going with people your own age and you can make lots of new friends?"

"But I'll miss you!"

Freddy fights back a laugh as I take a deep breath, asking anyone for some patience. "I'll miss you too, Er. But you can't come to Hogwarts yet."

"Your mom will miss you too much!" Freddy jumps in

"Oh!" She says. "Ok, that's a good point!"

"Thank you," I mouth to him.

"Do you think your mom misses you?" Parker asks.

Forgetting who I'm talking to, I answer. "Nah, she's got plenty of guys to fu—"I cut off mid-word, eyes wide.

"Fu-what?" Parker says."

"Fun," I cover and Freddy cracks up, laughing far too loud; people are starting to stare. "Plenty of guys to fun,"

Parker and Erin both frown. "What does that mean?" She asks, wrinkling her nose.

Shit. "It's American slang," I invent wildly and Freddy has to bury his face in my shoulder he's laughing so hard. I'm pretty sure he's crying. "It's like another word for marry, like you know, how she gets married all the time. She funs a lot of guys, she marries a lot of them," Definitely crying.

In front of me, my siblings are both nodding. "I'm going to fun as many girls as your mom!" Parker says.

"I'm going to fun Owen Spence!" Erin cries, referring to one of the members of _Purple Pygmy Puffs_ , a boy band she adores.

"Oh Merlin, Dad's going to kill me," I mutter, leaning into Freddy, who's still laughing uncontrollably.

The train whistle sounds, warning all of us stragglers to get moving. Freddy composes himself enough to say good-bye to our families and while he's with his parents, I make good-byes to my own family.

"Bye, love you," Freddy's levitating my stuff as we start our walk to the train. He has a compartment with James and some of their other friends already, his own belongings already inside. "Just remember I'm your favorite oldest daughter and you love me too,"

Dad frowns. "What did you do,"

"Please don't kill me, see you in December!" I jump on the train and quickly follow Freddy before anything else can be said.

Freddy is still chuckling as he leads me into a compartment with four boys. James immediately greets me and Freddy seems to suddenly remember he has my things when he almost drops them before stowing them away above with the others. "Right, you lot," He says, dropping into an open seat, and patting the spot next to it for me. "This is Carson," I wave. "This is Liam," The guys across from himself looks pretty short, but all muscle. He's got dark hair and a smile on his face as he greets me. "Dan," Dan waves. He's the only Asian in the group, taller than Liam, but just as muscular. What are they putting in the water at Hogwarts? "And Louis, another cousin," Louis is on the end, across from James, and he waves, so as not to interrupt their argument. He's got blond hair, blue eyes, and beautiful, striking features.

"My God, how many of you are there?"

"A lot more than this," James laughs.

"Oh god,"

"I think she was being facetious."

"Yes," I say. "Thank you, Louis,"

"Shut up, Lou," James says. "You're supposed to be on my side. You're my brother in law,"

Louis scowls. "He's not even your real brother!"

Liam shakes his head, looking over at me. "Five minutes and we're already here. That's got to be a record," He grins. "Welcome to the crew!"

"What on Earth did you get me into?"

Freddy beams back. "Are you not thrilled to be here with us?"

"Oh I'm something," I mutter and the rest of the boys laugh.

In all fairness, they are a good group. Louis leaves about 10 minutes after we pull away from the platform to run the Prefect meeting ("There goes our little Head Boy," James had cooed, to have his head slapped by Lou on his way out). They're a good mix of friendly and mocking, and it does seem like I'll fit in with the rest of them, the way I'd fit with Freddy.

A few hours into our journey, the door flies open and a beautiful blonde throws herself across Louis, Liam, and Dan. "My boys!" She cries.

Dan, who had been asleep prior to this, startles suddenly, as he awakens, when she lands on top of him. "Oi!" He cries. "What in the hell was that for?"

"I was excited to see you!" She beams, sitting up and squeezing between him and Louis. When she sits up, I can see even more how striking she is. Tall, with long legs, lead up to that perfect body every girl wants. Blonde hair that seems to float over her shoulder and sky blue eyes that are done in that winged eyeliner style I've never been able to master. In fact, her entire make-up scheme is perfect, right down to her perfectly red lip. In short, she looks like the daughter my mother always wanted.

"Well you would've seen us sooner if you hadn't been with that scumbag boyfriend of yours,"

"God I wish you would all stop saying that," She rolls her eyes.

"He's a Slytherin, Meg, what do you expect us to say?" James says, with a casual sort of half-smirk.

She rounds on him. "Your brother is a Slytherin!"

"I know, and Al's a moody prick,"

She rolls her eyes, before finally turning to me. "Are you a new girlfriend here to save me from them?"

"Err no to the first," I say and her eyes light up. "But maybe to the second, I'm still undecided,"

She laughs, even as the boys all look offended. "I'm Megan,"

"Carson,"

"So how'd you even get stuck in with these guys?" She asks.

"My parents know Freddy's; he hasn't introduced me to anyone else yet,"

"That's because there isn't anyone else worth knowing,"

I shrug over at Megan. "And you know, he thinks so highly of himself, I'd hate to just put him down,"

Her entire face is lit up as she beams back at me. "Oh I am so excited to have another girl around!"

And yeah, I can see how she would be excited about that.

* * *

"Left, no no no, not that LEFT, SHARP LEFT," Meg grabs my elbow and pulls me down the correct corridor.

"Why are we walking so fast?" To say that we're power walking down to breakfast would be an understatement; this is practically a jog. With me not knowing my way, it's made for a few interesting moments like this,

"We _may_ be running a few minutes late,"

My eyes narrow. "How many?"

"Like 20. It's whatever. Whatever. Liam will make sure we have food and Professor Longbottom will get us our schedules."

"But will I have time to eat?"

"If you pick up your damn feet,"

I speed up with her. "We're a flying family, not a running one!"

When we reach the boys at the end of Gryffindor table, they're all giving us funny looks. Meg and I are both hunched over, gasping for breath. Her backpack is still on her back, pushing her more forward; I'd thrown mine on the ground, not even reacting when it landed on Freddy's foot and he yelped.

"What is wrong with you two?" Louis asks, making some room for me between him and James.

"Seriously," James agrees. "After one jog,"

"Wildly out of shape," I gasp and Meg nods her agreement.

"I think I developed asthma this summer," Her words have me cracking up and she soon joins me, even if the boys around us quickly go back to ignoring us to return to their food.

"Good morning!" Professor Longbottom greets cheerfully, moments after Meg and I have gotten our breakfasts together.

"Uncle Neville," James nods politely in greeting.

Professor Longbottom sighs, long suffering. "How many times, James?"

James grins cheekily. "Every time; that's what makes it fun for me,"

Longbottom rubs his temples; it reminds me of my Dad when he's pretending he's tired of my whole existence. "Let it go," He mutters under his breath. "Louis, as Head Boy, please control your brother in law,"

"He's not my brother in law!" Louis cries.

"Honestly, Lou," Freddy tsks. "A little more respect for professors. You're supposed to be Head Boy," James snickers along with him.

"Don't push it, Freddy," Longbottom fights back a smile. "Here are your schedules. Find me in my office later with any concerns," He moves onto the next group.

Dan snatches his from the pile immediately. "Ugh, double potions first thing twice a week,"

"Today's not so bad," Liam says, eyes scanning his own schedule. "Charms, herbology, a free, and divination,"

" _Why_ would you even take that?" Meg asks.

The response is lost on me as I look at my own schedule. My own schedule looked pretty good as well. I'd stuck with the same subjects as at Ilvermorny, not choosing to add or drop any, as Professor Longbottom had offered when he'd come over to Sort me. That left me with the Core Five, as we called them at Ilvermorny; Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, Herbology, and Defense, with Arithmancy as an additional elective.

"Hey," Freddy pokes the top of my head. "Are you joining us?"

"Oh! I nod. "Yeah. Yeah. I'm ready,"

James grins from behind him. "We won't even make you run,"

"Fuck off James," Meg flips him off.

He wraps his arm around her shoulders. "I'd hate to set off your asthma again, Meg,"

She shoves him into the wall as they pass. It's well deserved.

* * *

The start of a double herbology period finds James gently shoving into Louis with each step, Louis muttering obscenities under his breath back at him, and me following the two of them to our assigned table, utterly baffled about everything.

Utterly baffled, that is, until we reach said table, and a cute blonde is already sitting at our table as the final member of our group this term. There are really no other words to describe her other than cute, except for maybe adorable? She has one of those bright, shining faces, even as she sits here in class, with big brown, doe eyes and a sweet smile. She's fairly petite, visible even from where she's seated in the chair. Everything about her looks like she's the sweetest person in the world.

And, well, yes, she just may be. The second I sit down across from her at the table, she introduces herself as Maeve, offers herself for any assistance I may need acclimating myself to Hogwarts, and tells me not to hesitate asking her if I need any help with anything. My instant reaction is that she's a little much, until she finishes the whole thing off by letting me know that she's also available just to hang if I "ever want to get away from those losers,"

"Hey!" Louis cries in protest.

She rolls her eyes, turning her attention back to me. "I'm Head Girl, so I'm stuck with him quite a bit; I know how he can get. Seriously, if you ever just want a change of pace, let me know,"

"Carson loves us," Louis informs her.

"Meh," I say. "It's a little soon for the L word,"

They all laugh, even Louis, who tells me to give him another week and I'll be changing my tune. "You'll see," He says. "They all do,"

"On that slight creepy note," James says brightly. "I think you just nominated yourself to put your hand down the plant today,"

* * *

Double Herbology leads into lunch, which James goes running into. Louis and I follow at a much more leisurely pace, so by the time we make it to the table, James has already told the table who our last partner is, and poor Lou is walking right into an ambush.

Five faces with identical creepy smiles greet us. "I think we should leave."

Louis sighs dramatically. "You're safe; it's me they're after."

"Alright then," I shrug, sliding into the open spot between Dan and James.

His jaw drops. "You weren't actually supposed to leave me!"

"Oh, right, you don't actually know me that well, but you shouldn't really be surprised."

"How did you make it into Gryffindor?"

"No, Lou, loyalty is a _Hufflepuff_ trait,"

"Yeah, I can screw you over all I want as long as I do it bravely," I add, nodding along with James' last sentence.

"I hate all of you," He gestures at me. "Even you. Only 24 hours to get here; took the rest of them years,"

"What a shame," I say, grinning. "Especially since Maeve loves me so much, we'll be hanging out all the time,"

As the others all laugh with me, his jaw drops. "Oh no, you're as awful as them; please, someone save me,"

"I don't know, Lou," Liam says. "It's been seven years. If no one's saved you by now, I think you're stuck with us,"

* * *

Arithmancy is by far my favorite subject. I like the crispness of the numbers, how everything always works out. You're right or you're wrong, and here's why. My best friend at Ilvermorny had a theory that its total structure balanced out the chaos of my childhood. Whatever it was, it was the only class on my first day I walked into without even a slight feeling of nerves.

I'd been unsurprised to discover that none of my Gryffindor friends were in Arithmancy with me. I'd learned the reason for Liam and Dan's continued studies of Diviniation—both excelled at exaggerating outrageous stories that pleased the professor enough to make the class an easy O. Meg leaves us for Muggle Studies at that time, also off on her own, and pouting about it in what I'm coming to learn is typical of her.

Freddy, James, and Louis are the ones to drop me off at Arithmancy before making their way to Care of Magical Creatures. The room is, as I'd expected, fairly empty compared to Charms and Herbology this morning. My eyes are scanning for a seat when I hear my name.

"Carson!" Maeve's waving from a table that's located conveniently not too close, yet not too far from the front. There's one additional spot at the table and the two other girls look just as friendly as she does, even as they continue their conversation as I make my way over. "Hi!" She chirps. "Oh, I'm so glad you found your way here alone,"

"I didn't," I admit. "The boys helped me here,"

The brunette across from me snorts a laugh. "And they didn't try and convince you to ditch class? Something's up,"

I laugh. "Probably, but Meg told them they weren't allowed to make me an accomplice until at least week 3,"

Maeve laughs. "That sounds more like it. Carson, this is Vero," The brunette smiles. She looks like she could be a relative of Alicia, with her olive toned skin, dark hair, and brown eyes. They're even a similar height. "And Lizzie, my best friends," Lizzie's hair is dyed lavender, and her hazel eyes are bright as she studies me. "They're both in Hufflepuff with me,"

The seats around us are starting to fill, friends finding each other, as I return the smiles they're both giving me while I look around. A table of Ravenclaw's is next to us, already discussing the syllabus, and I turn back to the girls, disappointed, when I realize even the cute one is arguing about the course schedule.

I like Arithmancy, but not that much.

"Oh I hope he's gotten hotter over the summer," Lizzie's saying.

Vero nods her agreement. "I hope he's got the beard again,"

"Seriously? What is wrong with you?"

"Oh I am such a sucker for a good beard," She sounds wistful. "I'm not sure anyone does it better here,"

"And who's this?" I ask, curiously.

"Professor O'Neal," Maeve says. Even she sounds a little excited about the thought. "He is far and away the best-looking professor in school."

"Wait until you see him." Vero promises. "It makes it worth any of the work he assigns,"

"Setting the bar pretty high."

"You will not be disappointed," She perks up as the door opens and lowers her voice when he walks in. "Yes! The beard is back!"

"Vero!" Lizzie hisses.

"What? Just imagine," She cuts herself off, lost in thought as she stares at him dreamily.

Poor Maeve's cheeks are bright red as she turns to me. "Please save me,"

Unfortunately for her, I'm laughing. "I think I'm with Vero on this one,"

She groans. "Oh Merlin, not another one,"

* * *

 **A/N:** I am so happy you all like this story so far and really hope you continue to do so! Please keep on reviewing and let me know. I love hearing what you think!

Disclaimer: I do not own Mean Girls, which is mentioned in this chapter. 


	4. four

It's almost a whole week before Dad's owl comes flying toward me at breakfast with the rest of the post. I drop the butter knife suddenly and it bounces on the table toward James, who has the complete misfortune of sitting next to me.

"Oi!" He cries.

Kratos, Dad's owl, drops the letter in front of me, helps himself to a bit off my plate, and takes off again. I lift it gently, as if afraid it'll explode like a Howler, even though that's not Dad's style at all. "Please don't be filled with condoms, please don't be filled with condoms,"

James chokes on the piece of bacon he'd just put in his mouth and if it isn't my words that catch the rest of our friends' attention, it's that. Freddy looks thrilled as he leans across his choking cousin to get a better view and Meg, the only other person who knows the story, looks mildly bemused. "You think your dad would do that?"

I shake my head. "Nah, but Alicia would have found it hilarious," Opening the letter, I sigh in relief when nothing falls out. "Phew," I breathe, eyes skimming the letter. "Much better than expected,"

Freddy, however, is howling, laughing at the tagline at the bottom. _P.S. Don't forget to use protection with those guys you're funning._

Meg makes grabby hands for the letter and as soon as I hand it to her, Liam and Dan lean in closer to read over her shoulder, but Louis just shakes his head. "I don't even want to know."

"Probably for the best," I say, soothing my non-eating hand over James' (still choking) back. "I don't have another hand to pat your back too,"

His jaw drops. "You'd just leave me hanging like that?"

Meg looks up from my letter. "You sound even remotely surprised by this,"

Lou cocks his head contemplatively. "Meh fair point,"

"Hey!" I cry.

"Am I wrong?" Louis raises an eyebrow at me.

I hesitate. "Never mind, carry on,"

* * *

James is bouncing in place in his seat in the Common Room. Annoyed, I scoot further away from him on the couch we're sharing, trying to go back to concentrating on the Transfiguration essay we'd already been assigned. More annoyed, Meg smacks her hand on his knee from his other side. "Would you _stop_?" She snaps.

"Can't," He replies, going right back to bouncing. "Too excited,"

"About what?" She snaps. She is, understandably, irritated. Her Muggle Studies flash cards have flown to the ground not once, not twice, but _four times_ because of his inability to sit still tonight.

Freddy perks up. "Oh! Is that tonight?" James nods enthusiastically, checking his watch; it's the most excitement I think I've seen him show in the weeks I've known him.

"Is what tonight?" I ask suspiciously, looking between the two of them. If three days of class in Hogwarts has taught me anything, it's that if something is happening that only James and Freddy know about, suspicion should be the dominant feeling.

However, James doesn't answer, choosing instead to jump up onto the coffee table, and also my essay, and turn to address the Common Room. "James!" I groan, trying to save my essay, hoping to Merlin he doesn't ruin it beyond repair.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Gryffindors all around," He's got his wand pointed to his throat to magnify his voice, not that he really needs it, because the second he jumped up the entire room had quieted down. "This is your Captain speaking!" A loud cheer from the opposite end of the room and James bows. Meg and I both roll our eyes. "I'm here to deliver the State of the Team Address!"

"State of the Team?" I mouth to Meg.

She nods. "Every year," She whispers back, as James is still droning on, pausing every so often for cheers and applause. "I should have known,"

"Tryouts for opens spots will be held next Saturday," He announces. "I will post a sign-up sheet on the board. We're looking for one Chaser and a Seeker." He nods once, as if wrapping up his inner monologue. "Thank you all for your attention, as always,"

As he jumps down from the table to settle himself back on the couch, the entire House bursts into applause. "That was the most ridiculous thing I've ever seen," I say, completely in awe that this even occurred.

He shrugs. "Quidditch is a big thing here,"

I nod slowly. "Yeah, I know; my dad played." I throw my hand out toward the open Common Room. "But that was—that was crazy!"

"People like to know what's going on with their Quidditch team," Freddy backs his cousin up.

"Yeah, how else am I supposed to make my bets," Dan says.

"This entire school is insane," I declare.

Meg frowns. "You told me you used to play a sport where the ball exploded!"

"Well, yes, in America we play Quodpot, not Quid—"

James lights up. "You play?"

"Well yes, but—"

"Are you going to tryout?"

"I hadn't thought—"

He frowns. "What do you mean?"

"I just hadn't really—"

He cuts me off again. "Come on, Carson, you have to try out,"

"You don't even know if I'm any good!"

He shrugs. "Just going based off pedigree." He pouts. "Please?"

"Will you stop making that terrible face?"

"My mom says it's cute!"

I pat his cheek lightly. "Probably to get you to stop making it,"

* * *

"Alright, you lot," James paces back and forth in front of the group of us potentials trying out for his team. "First things first, you all over there, non Gryffindors, out," He points back toward the Castle, waiting patiently as a large group files out. I fight back a smile, trying to avoid eye contact with Freddy, who keeps making faces at me, from where he's standing near his cousin. "Next, all First Years, your enthusiasm is noted and appreciated, but this is a rule even I can't break." He points again, and a smaller, but still rather large group starts making its way out of the Quidditch pitch.

"Try again next year!" Freddy calls, with a wave.

"Don't be rude," I chastise. "Be nice to the children,"

"Yes, mother,"

The guy in the Keeper's uniform next to Freddy snickers. "JP, I'm voting already, excuse me, which position are you trying out for?" He asks me.

"Shut it, Cooper," James snaps. "Just for that, I'm doing Seekers first,"

"What?" Cooper cries. "You promised me we'd do Chasers first!"

James shrugs. "Oh well," He mounts his broom. "Seekers, in the air!"

I flop down on the grass, settling in to watch Seeker tryouts. Around me, most of the other Chaser hopefuls are attempting to limber up; running laps, or tossing any spare object anyone can find between them. "What? Not going to join the fan club?" I look over, laughing at Freddy's words.

He is, of course, referring to the group of girls to our right. Not one of them is dressed properly for a Quidditch tryout, nor do any of them look like they've ever rode a broom before. "I think I own underwear bigger than that girl's shorts,"

"I think the fan club gets bigger every year," It's Freddy's fellow Beater, who'd over along with Freddy and Cooper the Keeper.

"Might be the year he finally loses it," Cooper nods in agreement, turning to look at me. "Mike Cooper, Gryffindor Keeper," He holds his hand out for me to shake.

The way he states that is familiar and after it hits me, I respond, holding my hand out to shake. "Bob Vance, Vance Refrigeration,"

His brow furrows and Freddy frowns, but the other Beater cracks up and I grin as the joke lands. "Ryan Fitzpatrick,"

"Fitz's is my mini-me in training," Freddy says proudly.

Fitz nods, but the look on his face makes it seem like the mini-me position was one he was thrust into, rather than one he willingly took up. "You poor thing," I pat his knee.

"I resent that," Freddy shoves me into the grass, ignoring my laughter.

When I do finally sit back up, the four of us settle in to watch the Seeker tryouts. James is getting visibly more frustrated as they go on, only one going even moderately well, until the very last one trying out, a tiny girl who looks like she'll get blown over by a gust of wind, completely dazzles us all.

When they finally land, James immediately pulls her into a bear hug, dismissing the other two hopefuls he'd kept, just in case nothing better came along. "Oh you've saved us. What is your name, child?"

"Maddy Connell," Her voice is soft and muffled, still stuck in James' grip.

"Put the poor girl down," Fitz says. "You're scaring her already!"

James does, looking almost reluctant as he does. "Alright, Chasers. We'll do some passing drills with myself and Scott. Then you'll try and score against Coop. Up in the air and form a line,"

The fan club is all cut immediately, when their passes don't make any distance whatsoever. Only a few actually make it past the passing drills and those of us who do, are lined up to shoot.

Not one of the three people in front of me makes all of their shots and tossing the Quaffle between my hands, I think about where I want to go first. Cooper's ready, looking good in that nice 'Keeper ready' position Dad always talks about, but his right side is definitely his weaker side so in a quick move, that's where I shoot first.

It goes in. Scott has a funny look on his face as he passes me the Quaffle back and I wait a moment, deciding where to go next. With a shrug, I make the split of the moment decision to go center hoop—another goal.

Three goals later and they've all gone in. Cooper doesn't look flustered—the sign of a great Keeper—but he does look confused and Scott and James are both giving me funny looks as James tells me to stick around.

Neither of the two after me come close to making all their shots either, so James dismisses the Chaser hopefuls, congratulating them all on making it this far, and congratulating myself and Maddy on making the team.

He looks absolutely thrilled as Freddy and I, the last two who waited around to help him clean up after tryouts, wait for him to close up the locker room. "This turned out much better than expected!" He beams at me. "We need a whole new strategy. That release of yours!"

"I can't believe you made me do this," I mutter to Freddy.

"Me? He made you do this,"

"Shit!"

* * *

The day after tryouts is the kind of sunny, beautiful, perfect weather that Meg claims is perfect for lying out by the lake. She has me dressed in my favorite gypsy-esque bohemian print bikini (with jean shorts and a tee on top to make it school appropriate), while she herself is dressed in a navy blue wrap-style top with floral bottoms and a sundress to cover.

All before breakfast. First meal she's been on time for all year. What do you know?

When she does bring her plans for the day up to the boys, rather than being excited as I thought they'd be (hello, girls in bikinis?), they're immediately skeptical.

"Who's going to be there?" Louis asks, eyes narrowed.

"Oh you know," Meg responds, _too_ casually. "Just some people,"

"Which people?" Dan repeats.

"Just, you know, me, C-Dub," Meg avoids, pausing after listing the new nickname the group bestowed upon me. "Some of the Ravenclaw girls from my Muggle Studies class may come out later, and uhh Timandhisfriends,"

"Aha!" Louis cries.

"I knew it!" James throws his finger out so hard it spills his drink. I wave my wand lazily to clean it up as he finishes. "Nope, we're not going!"

"Seriously?" She complains. "Why can't you guys just be nice for like one day?"

"We will," Freddy says. "So you can have today or your wedding day; take your pick,"

Meg glares. "I hate all of you. Come on, Carson; let's go!" She's off in a huff, practically shoving a First Year out of the way on her way to the door.

"Really, guys? You can't just be nice for a few hours to make her happy?" I hiss, before I walk away.

"He's a slimy Slytherin, Carson," James calls after me.

I stop specially at the door and turn, making sure to catch his eye so I know he sees when I flip my middle finger up at him.

* * *

It's right around lunch time that I bring it up to Meg, because having spent the morning together, I'm utterly baffled. "Why don't the boys like Tim?"

Tim Harkins, Meg's boyfriend since the beginning of _Fifth Year_ , had shown up to our spot on the lake shore shortly after we did, with two of his best friends and roommates in tow. They were a dynamic trio; him, Dave Perkins, and Jack Jennings. They're nice, friendly, at least moderately intelligent guys. The first thing Tim does upon seeing me is introduce himself with like, true, genuine interest about my life in America as he sits there, trying to get to know me a little better. Dave and Jack are just as great—funny and outgoing, just like Tim—both disappearing for a few minutes and returning with a case of beer, making me like them all only even more.

They're currently swimming in the lake while Meg and I continue working on our tans. I study her face carefully as she answers, and even though she looks unbothered, I can tell it drives her crazy, the boys' attitude toward Tim. "It's just some stupid House rivalry," She rolls her eyes. "They're just being stubborn; they don't actually hate him as much as they pretend to. They'll be down after lunch,"

She's right, they are, bringing baskets of food down for all of us from the kitchens. That being said, when they do sit down with us, they're very particular with how they interact with Tim, Jack, and Dave, much more stilted than they interact when we're alone.

So after lunch, when Meg is visibly upset and stalks off toward the water, dragging Tim along with her and expecting Jack and Dave to follow (which they do), I glare at _our boys_ and smack Liam's hand when he reaches for a beer. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I just wanted a beer!" He whines.

"Not you," I snap. "All of you," I throw my hand out toward the lake. Jack and Dave are doing some kind of shoving thing boys do but Tim is standing with a comforting arm around Meg, who looks frustrated, and maybe, potentially, like she's about to cry from anger.

"Oh," Dan says quietly.

"'Oh' is right," I mimic. "What is your beef?"

Freddy shrugs. "We just don't like the guy." It has all the guys nodding in agreement and me rounding around to look at him.

"You are like the nicest guy in the world! You like everyone!" My eyes narrow suspiciously. "That's the one guy you don't like?"

"He's going to hurt her!" More nods.

"Well if he does, _then_ we can talk about beating him up," I say. "But until then, could you at least try and make an effort for her? I'm not asking you to be his best friend or to hang out with him all the time. But for Merlin's sake just be nice enough that she doesn't look like that when we do!"

Five heads hang in shame. "We're sorry," Dan says.

"It's not me you should be apologizing to,"

"We'll talk to Meg later," James adds.

"And?"

"And we'll be nicer to her boyfriend," Louis agrees.

I nod, satisfied. "And now you may have a beer,"

True to their word, they do pull Meg aside when she comes back up to the shore for another drink to apologize. She's understandably still skeptical, but they are much nicer as we all move back down to the water. James conjures a volleyball and a net, charming it to stay floating so we can split into teams of five and play, and he and Louis both volunteer to join Meg and the Slytherins to have even teams.

She chooses Louis. In terms of winning games, probably the poorer choice. In terms of being nicer to her boyfriend, the better one.

Maeve, Vero, and Lizzie come down and join us in the middle of the afternoon. Lizzie refuses to come any closer to the water than she is sitting at the edge, patting her newly dyed hair, bleach blonde with pink streaks. Louis calls dibs on Maeve, claiming you can't split their team apart. She rolls her eyes, but joins him, and Vero is happy to join me and the rest of the Gryffindor boys, not even fazed as Freddy welcomes her to Team Awesome.

Another day, another question of how I ended up with these whackos as my friends.

Team Awesome crushes it though; Vero's got a healthy spirit of competition in her, despite her outward friendly Hufflepuff nature, and she fits right in with us overcompetitive Gryffies. From the way James and Freddy celebrate afterwards, you'd think we just won the Quidditch Cup, not a friendly game of volleyball against a couple of our friends' and one's boyfriend.

I guess Rome wasn't built in a day.

Later, after dinner, a meal in which not one of the boys has said a single bad thing about her boyfriend, Meg tackles me into my bed. "Thank you thank you thank you,"

"Oh Merlin, for _what_?" I try and shove her off. It's mildly successful, in that it clears my ability to breathe, but not my bed.

"Whatever you said to the boys!" She adjusts a little more on the bed, giving me more space. "That was the nicest they've ever been,"

"Oh! That. Just a classic guilt trip." I shrug. "Nothing they didn't deserve,"

She smiles, rolling over to look at me. "I'm really glad we're friends, Carson,"

"Yeah," I return her smile, slightly surprised at how genuine my words are, considering my initial apprehension about moving here. "Me too,"

* * *

 **A/N:** hope you enjoyed this one as well; let me know what you think and leave a review!

Disclaimer: I do not own The Office, which is quoted in this chapter


	5. five

James scans the room around him with scrutiny, his hazel eyes narrowed and fingers tapping against the table in front of him. Never one for awkward silence, I squirm uncomfortably in my spot on the bench between Freddy and Coop. Around me, the rest of the Quidditch team sits, their current mannerisms ranging from bored (Freddy) to antsy (Fitz) to awestruck (Maddy, bless her little heart).

The only one who seems to be perfectly excited, hanging onto every word James has been saying is Scott Ross, the little Third Year and my fellow Chaser, who's been staring up at him with rapture. Tone it down, Scotty.

"We," James says seriously. "Have a lot of work to do,"

"Here we go," Freddy mutters under his breath sarcastically.

"What was that?" James asks, as I snicker into my hand.

"Here we go!" Freddy says, pretending like he's pumped up.

James beams. "That's the spirit. We'll start with 10 laps around the pitch!"

He's met with a chorus of groans. "Do we have to?" Coop whines.

"Absolutely. You mofos are going to be the most physically fit group of assholes on the pitch," James glances at Maddy. "Well, except for you Maddy, you're already a wonderful human,"

Her charm truly knows no bounds.

But it's not enough to stop her from running laps.

She's about middle of the pack. James is leading the way, _actually jogging backwards_ , and occasionally frowning at those of us in back (Holla!), and shouting things that I'm sure he thinks are motivational. Scott is close behind him, looking only mildly fatigued throughout these laps, and Maddy is right behind him.

At least _she_ looks tired.

Freddy, Coop, Fitz, and I bring up the rear. Every one of us is panting by the end of lap two. By the lap six, we're taking turns muttering snarky comments under our breath in response to James' "motivational messages."

By ten, I think I'm dying.

I collapse at the end and the only thing that prevents me from falling onto the grass, is the fact that Freddy fell right before me. He lands on the pitch and I land on his stomach and Coop lands on _my stomach_ and Fitz lands on my legs and not one of us can be bothered to move as James stares at us with a _why me_ look on his face.

"Seriously?"

"I think I caught Meg's asthma," Freddy pants and I immediately crack up.

"Asthma's not contagious!" James cries. He points at me. "Doesn't your dad make his team run? Shouldn't you be well-trained by now?"

"Yeah, them! Not us! I'll tell you same as Meg! We're a flying family, not a running one!"

He shakes his head like he's disgusted with me. "I've never been more disappointed with Oliver Wood,"

"I'll be sure to pass the message along at Christmas,"

"Wait, what?" Coop cries, sitting up. He immediately starts coughing, having still not caught his breath. "You know Oliver Wood?"

James and I exchange a look. "Uh yeah," I say slowly. "He's my dad,"

Coop's eyes widen comically as he grabs my arm. "He's my idol. _My idol_! I love him,"

"He's married," I say dryly.

Freddy and James snicker, but it's like Coop hasn't even heard me. "I'm surprised you aren't a Keeper. Wait, are you? Are you a Chaser because I'm Keeper? Because we can trade if you want,"

"Cooper, stop talking," James barks.

"No, I'm a Chaser," I confirm.

Coop stares at me blankly. "Why?"

"Well when I was little he'd be the Keeper and let me shoot against him," I finally sit up. "For a while, I didn't think he was very good, you know because he was being like Good Dad and letting me score?" I can feel Freddy's laugh from where I'm still leaning against him and have to stop myself from joining at the look of outrage on Coop's face. "But then I got a little older and started understanding more,"

Coop shakes his head. "I can't believe you. So unappreciative of the greatest talent of all time,"

I give him a look. "I've watched that man dance on a table drunk and singing "Margaritaville," so besides the fact that he's, you know, _my dad_ , it's hard to be starstruck by someone _so normal_ ,"

My tone has Coop snapping out of his over-eager trance and James, perhaps sensing me about to snap or possibly used to people making a big deal about someone so normal in your own life and knowing _he'd_ be about to snap, calls order back to practice. "Up in the air. Freddy, go let a bludger out for you and Fitz to practice with. Maddy, release the snitch whenever you're ready. Scotty, Coop, Carson, we'll start with a pass to warm up and run into drills,"

* * *

"It's going to be brilliant," James says.

"Yep," I pat his arm gently. "I'm excited, you're excited, Freddy's excited," James looks over at his cousin, who had previously been miming _shoot me_ complete with fake finger gun and various other faces at me behind James' back, just in time for Freddy to morph his face into one of fake excitement. "Whole team is thrilled. First practice was great, next one will be better," James nods enthusiastically, not realizing my sarcasm for possibly the first time since we've met. "But right now, I need to get to Arithmancy and you need to get to Care of Magical Creatures,"

His face falls, like he'd once again, completely forgotten about class today. He's been this excited since last night after practice ended. And admittedly, it had been a good one. He, Scotty, and I worked well together; Freddy and Fitz were in sync all night; Coop even managed to save one of my shots.

It's not that I'm not excited about the team. Freddy too. We'd discussed it this morning in Charms, the class where we sit together and James is across the room and he'd have no hope of hearing us over the noise and is therefore unable to accuse us of treason.

So, it's not that I'm not excited. But all James has talked about is how I'll be his "secret weapon" and we'll dominate. And yes, we all want to dominate, but we also want to eat breakfast in peace.

"Right, class," He blinks a few times, as if clearing his head.

"Class," Freddy confirms cheerfully, pulling James away. "Wave bye to C-Dub, we'll see her at dinner," James allows himself to be pulled away, me waving happily at them, and Freddy only turning back to mouth _you owe me_ as they continue walking.

Yeah, I really do.

"Are you alright?" It must be a sign of how frustrated I look when the first thing Lizzie says to me is this.

I nod, slipping into my seat. "James just literally hasn't shut up all day. He's driving us all crazy,"

"James?" Maeve's eyebrows are high. "Usually Lou says it's Freddy that won't stop talking,"

"He's overly excited about Quidditch," I hastily pull out some parchment and a quill. The boys ( _coughJamescough_ ) have me running a little late. "Like, my dad level, overly excited,"

Lizzie frowns. "I can't believe you just compared the hottest guy in our year to _your dad_ ,"

"They're pretty comparable," Vero says. "I'd do either one of them,"

My jaw drops. "What?"

"What?" She shrugs. "Your dad's hot!"

"I'm leaving." I abruptly push my chair backwards right into the hot Ravenclaw that sits behind me. "Ow, oh my god I'm so sorry."

He laughs. "It's ok, I forgive you. You seemed really in a rush to run out of here before class even starts,"

"Vero said my dad was hot,"

Another laugh. "Do you need an escort to go rinse your eyes, ears, and mouth out?"

"Yes. Yes!" I smile at him. "I'm Carson,"

"Drew," He's got a great smile, with beautiful blue eyes that I could stare into all day.

Unfortunately, Professor O'Neal's arrival prevents me from doing so. "Quills out, we'll start with a pop quiz,"

Groans all around even from myself as I'm about to turn back around. Drew, however, grins at me one last time. "I'll see you around, Carson,"

Yes, hopefully.

* * *

"I need to get drunk," I latch onto James, who happens to be passing the Arithmancy classroom with Freddy and Louis as I'm running out. He laughs, merely choosing to sling his arm around my shoulders.

"Hell yeah!" Freddy cries. "Turn up!"

"Carson!" Maeve lectures at the same time. "It's a school night."

"I don't care, Maeve; I need to forgot every word that came out of Vero's mouth in the last hour."

"Carson, it isn't good to drink away your problems," She frowns.

I look past her. "Lou?"

"I have no control over what the Head Girl says or does," Lou shrugs. "But yeah, we can totally get drunk tonight."

Maeve sighs. "Can you at least wait until Friday? I have an Ancient Runes test tomorrow."

I sigh long-sufferingly. "I suppose I can wait, since you asked so nicely. But if we're waiting until Friday, we're going hard. Power hour, shots, the works,"

"Shots?" Vero exclaims excitedly, her and Lizzie having just caught up with us. "When? Where? Doesn't matter, I'm in."

"Go fuck yourself, Dubois!" I cry; Vero only grins back at me.

"That was aggressive," James says mildly.

"She said my dad was hot!"

"Smokin' hot," She corrects.

"For like, the entire last hour," Lizzie adds.

"Stop talking about it!" I cover my ears with my hands and squeeze my eyes shut. A minute later when I deem it safe to open them, they're all laughing at me.

"No wonder you need to drink," Louis laughs.

As I glare at him they all laugh harder. "We can hook you up," Freddy promises. "Is your preference casual dorm drinking or full party?"

"My preference is drunk, as quickly as I can get there,"

"Dorm drinking," James decides. "We'll show you a real party next weekend,"

"Good point," Freddy nods in agreement. "We want your first time to be special,"

"That's what she said!" I grin excitedly.

"What?" They all stare at me.

"God, you guys are awful,"

* * *

"Meggie," I whine from my bed, still wrapped in my towel, as soon I hear her turn off the shower. Friday night is finally here and as our dorm drinking plans have somehow grown to include a few more Weasley cousins, Tim and company, and maybe Lizzie's boy toy (if she hasn't broken things off by time they leave the dorm), the boys decided to move our location to some fancy room down the hall. "What do I wear?"

"Comfy cute!" She shouts back. "We might not come back!"

"Do I need to report my own kidnapping?"

She pokes her head out of the bathroom, brow furrowed. "Don't be stupid."

"I'm dreaming," I throw my towel down to get dressed before she can change her mind about the dress code. Leggings, boots, and a quarterzip is the best party outfit I've ever worn. "Let this be the outfit we wear to every party from here on,"

"It's only because we might sleep there!" Meg shouts from the bathroom mirror, where she's fixing her hair. "Calm yourself."

When Meg dresses in a nice, oversized cardigan over a perfectly fitted v-neck t-shirt (as usual, our definitions of what comfy cute means differ), we're able to make our way down the hallway until she abruptly stops and starts pacing in front of a blank wall like a freak.

"What the hell are you—"I start, only for my jaw to drop when the wall morphs into a door.

"May I present the Room of Requirement," She throws her hand out to the side as she opens the door, like she's gesturing to this grand thing.

It's literally a giant room filled with a few comfy couches, a pong table, and a sweet bar set-up. It's nice, don't get me wrong, but it looks a bit like the basement rec room at Dad and Alicia's. "Neat," I say, trying not to sound too hesitant.

"Neat? _Neat?_ Carson, do you even know what this room—"

"Hello? New girl!" I cry, as a pair of arms drapes over us.

"Don't ruin it, Meg," Dan squeezes us both close to his side. "She'll find out soon enough."

"She's so unappreciative!" Meg rambles.

"I need a drink!" I cut her off, before she can really get going, and Dan nods, breaking the two of us off from her to go to the bar.

"C-Dub!" Freddy cries when we approach. He's already got a drink in his hand as he chats with Louis next to the bar and from the shine in his eyes and flush on his face, it's definitely not his first.

"Are you here to rescue me?" Lou asks, looking slightly amused at his cousin. He's also holding a drink but he's either had far less to drink or the French Veela genes lend to far better alcohol tolerance.

"Am I ever?"

He shakes his head. "Yeah, I should have known better on that one,"

"C-Dub!" Dan calls from behind the bar. "Beer? Wine? Firewhiskey? I got all your muggle liquors back here…pick your poison,"

"Beer!"

"Twins!" Freddy cries, as Dan uses one of the taps to pour me a cup.

I give him a look. "Seriously, what time did you start?"

He flubbers over an answer, unable to articulate a real response. Louis, Dan, and I laugh, observing as more of our friends start to fill the room. James is in the corner, talking with his brother and a blond guy. Meg had jumped on Tim the minute he walked in the room and was chatting happily with him and his friends on one of the couches.

"Let's do a shot!" Freddy announces.

"Let's not," Lou says.

"I'm in!"

Freddy beams, throwing his arm around my shoulders and knocking his cousin in the face as he does. Louis swears and I laugh as Freddy pulls me closer to the bar. "Sorry, Lou,"

"No you're not!"

I hold my fingers about an inch apart in his direction as Freddy pours us shots. "A little bit."

"Whatever," Louis slides in next to me. "Freddy, hit me,"

"Louis! My sweet! My darling! My favorite cousin!"

Louis glances at me as we all lift our glasses up. "Bottoms up,"

* * *

"Carson!" Lizzie drunkenly throws herself across my lap, overestimates, and ends up half across Freddy sitting next to me. Remarkably, despite continuing to drink, he seems to have sobered up a bit, and pushes her back upright into my lap. She grins at the two of us. "Hi!"

"Hi," I say back, fixing the strap of the tank top under her olive green button down shirt that she's left unbuttoned (or someone's already unbuttoned—Merlin this girl is drunk) before she gives us all a show.

"I knew it was a bad idea to pregame," Maeve, across from me in our little circle, shakes her head, with that same look my dad gets when Alicia and I are getting too chummy.

"Maeve," Vero says, like a mother scolding a child. "What did we say about toning down the responsible Head Girl talk tonight?"

Maeve glares at her as she gestures to Lizzie, who is now running her fingers through my hair, gasping about how pretty it is. "Look at her!"

Vero waves it off. "She'll be fine. Let her sit, let's get back to playing. You're up,"

Maeve stares at Vero dead on as she says, "Never have I ever cried in public because of a kiss."

"He bit my lip!" Vero cries, but takes her drink and she's next; you could see the wheels turning in her brain as she thinks.

"This is so exciting," Freddy mutters next to me, sitting up straighter in his seat. "So Un-Hufflepuff of them,"

"Never have I ever not had sex before," Vero returns the looks Maeve gave her, except…

"Wait, what?" Louis says, looking confused.

"Double negative," James shakes his head.

"J'accuse," Freddy cries, definitely too drunk to get that.

"That doesn't even make sense here," I say to him, reasonably.

He frowns. "Why not?"

"Wait, does this mean you drink if you have had sex?" Scorpius Malfoy, the blond guy I learned was Albus Potter's best friend, scrunches his nose up, confused.

"No, you drink if you haven't had sex," Liam argues.

"What? Why would that be a question?"

"Double negative," James repeats loudly, even though we all heard him the first time.

"Drink if you're still a virgin!" Vero cries, falling backward in to the couch. "For Merlin's sake I was just trying to get Maeve drunk. Why was this so complicated?"

"Because the rest of us are drunk," I say, taking my own drink as Maeve takes hers.

Both Albus and Scorpius, the young'uns at the table drink, but of our friend group playing, Maeve and I are the only ones to do so and Freddy cries, "What?" as he turns to stare at me.

I raise my eyebrows at him. "And what was that supposed to mean?"

"I just didn't expect with your dating history to—"He cuts himself off at my look.

"No, no, where were you going with that?"

He buries his face into my shoulder. "Somewhere stupid,"

I laugh, rubbing his hair with the hand that isn't keeping Lizzie upright. "You're forgiven,"

He beams up at me. "Pssst. Never have I ever injured myself trying to impress a girl,"

"Freddy!" James cries.

I kiss his forehead. "Now you're definitely forgiven."

* * *

"I'm so disappointed in him," Freddy frowns at his cousin, who's passed out on the floor in front of us. We're curled up on the couch, me tucked under his arm comfortably into his side, both of us only casually drinking from a bottle of firewhiskey we're passing back and forth, and currently staring down at Albus. "Weasley's are better than that."

"Technically," I muse. "He's a Potter?"

"He's half-Weasley!" Freddy leans forward to look down. "Look at him!" I lean up with him to look. Admittedly, he's right; Albus has lost his right shoe, left sock (how THAT happened), half his t-shirt (his baby 15 year old abs are adorable), and a chunk of his hair. "He's an embarrassment to the family name,"

"He's a baby; we have to nurture him!"

Freddy grumbles, pulling us both back to the couch. "I didn't sign up to be a teacher, C-Dub."

"But we can teach him the cool bottle opening trick."

That cheers him up a bit and he moves on from judging Albus to glancing around the room. The party's mostly died down now. The music's quiet and low and drinks aren't flowing like they were before. The Puff girls left a little while ago, Vero and Maeve dragging Lizzie out once she started crying about how perfect Scorpius's face was. Liam, Dan, and Louis have fallen asleep on furniture spread out throughout the room and only then did I start to understand what Meg said earlier about this room…because those beds weren't there earlier.

"Why are they still here?" Freddy mutters, tipping the bottle back.

I frown, trying to follow his gaze. "Who?"

"Them." He nods in the direction of Meg and Tim, who similar to us, are settled on a couch, with his friends nearby, chatting with Scorpius. Unsimilar to us, Meg is in his lap, smiling freely, definitely a little drunk, as she every so often steals a kiss from her boyfriend. "Ugh, they shouldn't have even come,"

"Oh my god," It dawns on me. "You like her."

"What?" He doesn't even sound defensive. He genuinely sounds like the thought has never occurred to him.

"That's why you don't like him! You like everybody but you don't like him and it's because you like her! I did it! I solved the puzzle!" I swig from the bottle only for him to pull it away from me.

"You're delusional," He stands up. "And now I need more to drink since you finished it all!" He walks away in a huff but I don't even have time to be disappointed about the loss of warmth or lack of alcohol because James flops down into the seat he vacated.

"What's his problem?"

I frown. "He stole my drink."

James grins. His cheeks are flushed pink and his hair is messier than usual. "I've got one right here," He holds up another bottle.

I beam, settling myself against his side. "Man after my heart."

His arm goes around me and we pass the bottle a few times before he asks, "Is that Al?" I nod and he snorts. "What an embarrassment to the family name,"

I roll my eyes. Poor, poor Al. He won't be living this one down for a while.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks as always for continuing to read! I love hearing your thoughts so please keep on reviewing!

Disclaimer: I do not own Jimmy Buffett or Margaritaville or The Office, which are all mentioned in this chapter.


	6. six

When I wake up the next morning, it's to the sound of loud laughter and the feel of a vibrating chest beneath my cheek. James' arm is still wrapped around me and he's chuckling as he watches his brother hurl into a bucket on the floor beneath us, occasionally vanishing its contents. "You're terrible,"

"Hey! I was nice; I conjured him a bucket, I got him some water!" He argues. "Your siblings are too young for you to appreciate this,"

"I'll be the old chaperone by the time they start drinking." I adopt a mom voice. "Here, honey, have some water. And don't forget to eat something or you'll feel it tomorrow." We both laugh as Albus pukes again. "We need to get this kid some grease,"

"I need some grease," James moans.

"I'd kill for a BEC," I add.

He pokes his finger into my side and I giggle. "We're in my country now, love; your silly American slang won't cut it here,"

"Bacon, egg, and cheese." I say, like it's completely obvious and he makes a face back at me as he mimics me. "Shut up, unless you can get me one,"

He laughs, nodding. "Yeah, I was just thinking we should hit brunch. Al, brunch sound good?"

Albus shakes his head, and still bent over the bucket, his voice echoes when he replies. "Terrible,"

"Great," James says cheerfully. "He's in. Anyone else?"

I shrug, looking around the room. Meg, Tim, Jack, and Dave are on the other end, just starting to wake up, but besides us, the room has emptied out. "Meggie, brunch?"

"Hell yeah," She confirms. "Wait, Tim, brunch?" The three boys nod in agreement and we all agree to change and meet in the entrance hall to sneak to Hogsmeade in 30 minutes.

"You'll feel better once we eat," I rub my hand up and down Albus' back right as the group is about to split.

"You promise?" He mutters. He still looks a little green as he joins the Slytherins on their journey to the dungeons.

"That was so fun!" Meg says, bouncing up and down, as we three make our way down the hall back to Gryffindor Tower. "We should do it again next weekend,"

James glances at her skeptically. "Are you still drunk?"

"I don't think so." She skips ahead of us and we exchange a look, only to rush to catch up to her when she calls down the hall. "Guys! Help! I don't remember the password,"

About 20 minutes later, I'm leaning against the doorway to the Seventh Year Boys' Dormitory, dressed in a new pair of black leggings, an oversized Puddlemere United long-sleeved t-shirt, and a pair of sneakers. "Stopped at the Fifth Years on my way down to invite Rose,"

"Yeah?" James says, pulling a t-shirt on. Liam and Dan are still sound asleep, but Louis had jumped at the invitation and is also trying to get dressed as he brushes his teeth at the same time, so his response to my statement is a little muffled, but I assume it's about the same.

"Yeah," I nod. "And she's been up since 8, eaten breakfast, been for a run, and come back and showered already,"

James looks disgusted. "How dare she?"

"Ihnhenan uprid,," Lou adds.

James and I share a look. "Spit and repeat," He ducks into the bathroom and we hear the water run, before he comes back out, toothbrush free.

"I said I'm not even surprised," He shakes his head, grabbing his wallet and wand to tuck in his pocket. "She's such an overachiever,"

James snorts. "Listen to you,"

"We have to get going." I interrupt, before they can get going. "Meg should be waiting for us in the Common Room by now." They're still arguing down the stairs and she's not in the Common Room, but she's hurtling down the stairs to meet us, which really, is better, because James and Lou stop their ridiculous argument to laugh at her instead.

"Guys," She whines, taking me by hand and dragging me toward the portrait hole. "Stop,"

Just as we're about the push the portrait open, it swings out in front of us. Meg jumps and I giggle at her antics, until I see that it's Freddy walking in, looking uncharacteristically serious—though it seems I'm the only one who notices.

"Freddy!" Meg cries; I tug her back before she can launch herself at him.

"Going to hit brunch, mate," James smiles. "You in?"

Freddy shakes his head. "I'm good. I'll catch up with you later,"

"Come on," Meg tugs my hand, and James and Louis are quick to follow, none of them noticing Freddy's mood. I sneak a look back and he's staring fondly at the four of us as we leave until he meets my gaze and his eyes narrow.

The portrait closes behind us and he's out of sight for now, but it looks like maybe I caused a revelation for Freddy last night.

* * *

"Or maybe I'll have waffles," Dave hesitates.

"Would you just fucking decide already?" Jack glares.

"Could you please if you don't mind keep your voices down?" Albus asks meekly.

I snicker into my mimosa. We're all squished into a back booth at Colin's, "the best Saturday brunch in Hogsmeade," according toJames, who had rallied us all down the main street until we finally reached this cute little restaurant. Currently, I've got Al on my right looking absolutely awful and James to my left, looking delighted at Al's misery.

What a good brother.

Our waiter has been over and back with our drink orders (bottomless mimosas and bloody mary's all around), but the food order is taking a little more time…mostly because every time Dave settles on what he wants, he finds something else he thinks he'd like better.

"Ok," Dave decides. "I'm definitely getting the veggie omelet,"

Tim groans. "No way, man, last time you got a veggie omelet when you were hungover you were puking for the rest of the afternoon,"

"Please don't mention that word," Al groans.

"What, veggies?" Meg giggles. "Veggies, veggies, veggies,"

"So drunk," James snickers.

"Are you all ready to order now?" Our waiter, poor thing, returns for a fourth time, looking at us expectantly.

"I think I just need one more min—"Dave starts to say, but I cut him off.

"He'll go last," The waiter shoots me a grateful look as Dave huffs a, "Rude," to me, but I continue on, gesturing between myself and Al. "We'll both have the bacon, egg, and cheese on French toast platter with breakfast potatoes and an extra side of bacon."

James fights back his laugh as he orders next and soon enough, we're all waiting with baited breath. "Give me the breakfast burrito and a side of sausage,"

"Thank Merlin," Louis mutters.

"Food will be out shortly," Our waiter books it away before Dave can change his mind.

"He hates us," I announce. "Please tell me there's another brunch place in town, because I'm honestly not sure how welcome we are here,"

James shakes his head. "Three Broomsticks has a good Sunday brunch but their Saturday menu is normal food."

"Alright," I say, cracking my neck and enjoying the winces of the boys around me. "So we need to get our shit together then, people. We are not getting kicked out of the only Saturday brunch in town because _Dave_ can't make a fucking decision,"

"Hey!" He protests. "It's also because Al looks like he's about to blow any second,"

"We all need to be better," I say reasonably. "So let's be fucking better,"

* * *

It's 4pm and we're still at brunch.

Let me rephrase. It's 4pm and we're all drunk again because we haven't _left_ brunch.

In other words, _no one has been better_.

"Excuse me," Meg trills, flagging the waiter down. He looks exhausted, poor guy, dealing with us for 5 hours now. "Another mimosa for me and my friends," She throws her arms around me and Albus, who's made a real comeback and is back to being pleasantly drunk and giggly.

"Merlin, I'd kill for some nachos right now," I say, as he takes our glasses away.

"Not on the menu, I already checked," Tim says glumly.

"Kitchen's got nachos," James says.

"Here?" My eyes widen.

He snickers. "No, at school,"

"So, the check then?"

Louis snorts. "If you think Meg can walk back right now,"

I glance over at her. She's giggling into our freshly refilled mimosas as she tries to cheers with Al. "I'll crawl back with her if it gets me nachos,"

James laughs, and the boys all agree food sounds good, so he flags the waiter down for our check. As if waiting for this moment, he's got it already prepared and slams it down on the table, looking relieved. "Even split?" James asks, eyes skimming over the bill.

Tim, Dave, Jack, Lou, and I all nod in agreement; Meg and Al don't even appear to have heard him, now linking their arms together to try and drink. "We'd better tip well," I say, eyeing the two of them. "We didn't order nearly enough to make this worth only 20%."

James waves me off. "The whiskey'll help,"

"When did you switch to whiskey?"

"When bloodys got too sweet," Dave says, like it's obvious, and when I look over, he and James both have new glasses in front of them.

"Who think bloodys are too sweet?" I exclaim.

"Right?" Jack cries. "They're the worst!" We clink glasses.

"When did you even get to that side of the table?" I'm amazed James isn't sitting next to me anymore; somehow, we've completely re-organized without me even realizing.

James snickers. "When you two shoved me away," He gestures between me and Meg. "I moved over, made new friends, and found a new drinking buddy," He throws his arm around Dave.

"Whiskey bros for life," Dave cries.

"Can we please go back to the nachos thing?" Tim interrupts. "JP, what do we owe?"

JP? Honestly, James, pretty shitty timing to finally jump on board the Tim Train.

* * *

"Run along, kiddos," Freddy makes as if to shoo Coop and Fitz away from our little running group. He's been silent thus far, all while James went over his practice outline and discussed all the absurd things he wanted to accomplish today. Freddy didn't even have a comment when James announced he wanted to up our warm up laps to 12 today.

"What?" Coop's jaw drops. "But we always run together!"

"Not today," Freddy says, uncharacteristically serious. "I need to talk to C-Dub."

"I can't run any faster," Fitz whines.

"Fine," Freddy snaps. "Carson, slow down,"

"Gladly," I wheeze, clutching my side. My head is pounding; damn James and Dave for bringing out the Exploding Snap drinking game during nachos last night.

When Freddy deems them sufficiently far enough away, he finally speaks and it's just as dramatic as he's made this whole event. "You've ruined my life,"

"Yeah?"

"Yes, Carson!" He huffs, but like an out of breath huff (even though we're both definitely starting to hit our limit), more like an exasperated one, like he can't believe I don't realize how much I've completely shattered his existence. "You—"gasp "never should have—"wheeze "told me—" gasp and cough "I like her,"

"Why not?" I pant. "Way I see—"gasp "you have two opt—" hacking cough "ions to either win her—"wheezing inhale "over or now that you—"large gasp "know, let her go—"

"Neither of those," Freddy wheezes. "Seem like great—"gasp "options,"

"Well—"I begin.

"Oi!" James cuts me off. He is, miraculously, not at all out of breath, and frankly, looks too upbeat for this Sunday morning practice. "Talk less, run more!"

"Fuck you!" Freddy flips him off.

"Sorry," James says dryly. "Is my practice cutting into your morning chat?"

"I'm hungover as fuck right now," I whine.

Coop's eyes widen comically as he looks back over his shoulder at me, still a bit in front of us. "I can't believe you just admitted that,"

"Him, I can handle. It's this running shit I can't lock down,"

Coop snickers. "Ohhh, just wait,"

Two hours later, I'm only slightly regretting those words. It wasn't James, really, but running wasn't the only thing I wasn't ready for, so much as movement in general.

So naturally, today is the day James decides he wants to review strategy after practice.

"Can we sit down to do this?" I ask hopefully.

James looks over at me, exasperated. "Really?"

"What? I'm tired and hungry!"

James groans as I sit down on the pitch and the rest of the team follows me. "You're killing me here, C-Dub,"

"I can't believe I left your brother in bed for this,"

James' jaw drops as everyone around me laughs. "What? When did you even get him up there?"

"When you and JJ went swimming in the lake,"

James shakes his head, but starts talking tactics, drawing the attention of everyone.

Everyone, that is, except Freddy who scooches in closer to me. "I can't believe you," He whispers accusatorily. "Calling him JJ,"

"Me?" I hiss back, gesturing toward James. "He's the one who's investing in a whiskey start-up with Dave!"

"J'accuse!"

I groan. "Stop shouting j'accuse when you don't agree with something!"

"Do you two have any respect for me at all?" James interrupts us.

"I doubt you want to know the answer to that." Freddy says.

"JJ!" I cry, at the same time, spying him behind James walking toward us with food in his hand.

Jack grins, starting a jog. "Brought you a BEC from brunch,"

James throws his hands up in the air. "I give up,"

* * *

 **A/N:** I'm so happy you guys are enjoying this and love hearing your thoughts about it so please keep on reviewing!


	7. seven

"You're quiet today," James remarks to me in Transfiguration, the class where, when Professor McLaughlin announced he would allow us to choose partners to sit next to on the first day, I'd grabbed him immediately for fear of getting stuck with Freddy and Louis again after a disastrous Potions class where we'd been seated alphabetically.

That poor Ravenclaw stuck sitting with Weasley, Weasley, and Wood. I'm surprised she hasn't asked to move tables yet.

"Hmm?" I barely look up from the cat I'm supposed to be vanishing. Normally, Transfiguration is one of my better subjects; today it feels like I'm getting nowhere.

James reaches out and removes my wand from my hand, placing it on our table. "Is everything okay, Carson?"

I sigh, shaking my head. "My mom's divorced again."

"Oh," James says, pausing, and opening and closing his mouth a few times.

"Are you speechless?" I grin. "You are; oh my God," He starts to protest. "Wait, stop, I'm memorializing this moment. Wait 'til I tell the team you were actually _speechless_ ,"

"Shut up," James mutters, then in a louder tone. "Seriously, though, are you okay?"

I shrug. "I mean, it's not like I expected _this one_ was going to be _the one_ , you know? Like you get to 19 stepfathers and—"

" _Nineteen_!" James cuts me off.

"Yeah," I scrunch up my face, sure that I'd mentioned to him before my numerous stepfathers. "Did I not mention…?

"Not that there were 19 of them!"

I giggle at his face. "Whoops!"

"Whoops!" He mimics, flicking his finger against my arm, then beaming when my face morphs into a genuine smile and stays there.

"I didn't like expect him to stick around, obviously, but like she could have told me when it was happening, not two months after the fact,"

"Do you think she just forgot you didn't know?" James asks. "What, with you not living with her anymore?" He hesitates. "Not that that excuses it I mean, but-"He trails off.

I shrug. "Maybe, that'd be her style." His brow furrows in confusion. "She's very into her weddings; she makes a big deal about them. They're all a huge fuss. But the divorces are usually much quieter. So she either forgot I didn't know or just plain didn't tell me when it happened because they don't get enough attention."

The look on his face is a little sympathetic mixed with something I can't quite identify. I almost cringe, waiting for his response. "Wow, you guys don't seem anything alike."

"Nope, not at all," It's probably the best response he could have given and I'm so immensely thankful it wasn't remotely sympathetic.

"So when's the next wedding going to be?"

I grin back at him. "I've got 4 months. Do you want to join the pool?"

* * *

"Come here," James pulls me away from Maeve and Lizzie after Defense that same afternoon, where we're standing in the hallway chatting about our Arithmancy project prior to dinner that night. "Sorry ladies, stealing her away,"

"Wait!" Maeve calls.

"Please do," Lizzie says, pushing me closer to him. "Catch up tomorrow, C-Dub," She was vehemently against discussing any school work during dinner hour, claiming we could wait until class to decide what we wanted to do. Maeve's overachieving ways glared both of us into submission.

"Where are we going?" I look up at James once he pulls me away. Everyone's moving in the opposite direction of us, toward the Great Hall for dinner, but he's leading me through crowds of people lower and lower in the castle.

He grins at me, that sideways grin he does when he knows something someone else doesn't. He's wearing his glasses today, too lazy to bother with the correction charm this morning, and honestly they only further the "I know something you don't know" look, but he wears it well. Ugh, it's annoying. "You'll see."

"I'm starving," I whine. "And we're walking away from the food,"

He tickles the pear ( _the pear_ ) on a portrait. "Are we?"

The portrait swings open to reveal my new favorite room at Hogwarts, their kitchen. My jaw drops and I hear him laugh. "I love you and I take back all the mean things I just said about you,"

He frowns. "What mean things?"

I hesitate. "Did I not say them out loud?"

James cracks up. "Come inside; it's a secret place, we can't stay here with the door open all day."

The inside is just as magical. The house elves praise and fawn over him as we enter and compliment and welcome me as well, sending us over to a table in the corner. One brings us fresh butterbeers and says he'll bring us whatever we want to eat whenever we want it. "I love this place,"

James grins. "I figured you would,"

"Thanks,"

He shrugs. "Thought you might need it,"

I nod. "I—I did. Thanks,"

We bounce a few options back and forth about what to eat before it finally hits me and when it does, it smacks me in the face. "Tacos!"

"Tacos?"

"Tacos! It's Taco Tuesday!" At his look of confusion, I explain the significance of the day. He looks more amused than understanding, and I'm sure he still doesn't get it, but nevertheless he puts in the order for taco fixings and follows it up with a round of margs.

Ok, maybe he gets it a little more than I thought.

Mildly tipsy and stuffed with tacos (but still eating anyway, your girl's got no willpower when it comes to food), I don't even care when James starts talking Quidditch tactics to me.

"Since I never got to it on Sunday," He'd claimed, fixing a chicken taco, before he launches into a scheme he's been thinking about.

"What if Scotty goes under?" I interrupt his musings.

He stops abruptly. "Under," He says, like it's never occurred to him, and then repeats the word, like he's watching how it would play out in his head.

"Yeah, instead of left, which we both know is his weakest; his turns aren't smooth enough yet to keep up but if he dives down and follows along and then does the," I make a twirly motion with my hand, to signify the unsaid rest of James' play, but he seems to get it, nodding along.

"That means you can cut left for the shot then!" James beams, looking thrilled.

"Do all of your plays involve me shooting?"

"You're unfamiliar, with a technique none of us have seen before. Slytherin's not going to know what hit them!"

* * *

When Louis and I finally arrive to Herbology, late from our group's disastrous Potions class, we are, for lack of a better term, grumbly, and it's easy to tell. It's by the grace of Lou's family's close relationship with Professor Longbottom (and his friendly, understanding personality) that he dismisses us to our table with little explanation, where James is waiting expectantly, and Maeve looks nervous.

"What happened?" Maeve begs immediately, looking between the two of us.

"Ugh," I say.

"Don't get her started," Lou cuts in.

"James, would you _kindly_ shut your brother-in-law up?"

"We're not brother-in-laws!" Louis cries, as James laughs.

"Well, who's being dramatic now?" I mutter.

"Don't you use my own words against me!" Louis says.

"Are you going to wag your finger at her next, Gramps?" James snickers.

"Shut up," Lou responds.

"What _happened_?" Maeve asks again. Stuck at the front of the room, she'd heard the commotion, and given me a look as she'd left the room, but she'd definitely been too far away to hear the whole thing go down.

"We had a _slight_ misunderstanding—"

" _Slight_? I hate her!"

"You don't hate her," Lou says patronizingly.

"Fuck you I don't!"

"Carson!" Maeve cries.

"Sorry, Maeve," I sigh. "Screw you I don't!"

She huffs. "That was not what I was referring to but thank you!" I fight back a smile. So classic Maeve, happy I took back my curse word. "I was _referring_ to the fact that you barely know her!"

"She sabotaged our potion because she didn't like how I got beetle juice!"

"What?" Maeve frowns.

"No!" James cries, looking equal parts scandalized and delighted.

Louis shakes his head. "She started flipping out when C-Dub—"

"Stop, you're not even telling it right!" I shove his arm. "You skipped the whole beginning! So I was supposed to prepare the beetle juice and at Ilvermorny we learned a trick that if you crush them you get more juice than if you cut them. So I'm at my station crushing beetles, talking to Freddy," That gets a smile from Maeve and a snicker from James. "And then she starts flipping out! Nothing was good enough, she stopped stirring!"

"It exploded because of that!" Lou cried. "She caused the explosion."

"I thought you didn't hate her!" I cry.

"I can't help it; talking about it is making me mad again!"

"See, she's the worst!"

"Ah screw it, I agree, she's awful," Lou agrees.

"Louis!" Maeve scolds. "You can't be mean to other students,"

"I wasn't to her face!"

Maeve buries her face in her hands as Lou, James, and I laugh. "I don't know if I can hear about this anymore." She admits. "Because I don't want to know about whatever revenge you're planning."

"That's fair," James says pleasantly. "What would you like to discuss instead?"

A sly grin spreads over Lou's face but things don't click in my brain until a minute too late. "How about we talk about Carson's Hogsmeade date?"

Maeve gasps excitedly and James frowns. "What?"

"JJ asked me to Hogsmeade, but you're telling it wrong _again_ ," I shove Lou's shoulder again. "But I didn't want to say yes and then have things go downhill, especially now that you guys are getting along so well with them, so I told him I would only go as friends with a group."

"Carson!" Maeve scolds. "What were you thinking?"

"What?" I cry. "No! I am in the right here! I'm bad at relationships and panic at commitment!" My friends burst into laughter. "I was trying to prevent us from splitting up when I broke his heart. Obviously Tim and Dave would side with JJ and Meg would have to side with Tim. Freddy would be stuck siding with me because our families are too close and Maeve, I'm calling dibs on you, Lizzie, and Vero, because let's be honest here, you three weren't this close with us until I came along," She laughs, but nods. "So that means I get Lou because you two have Head stuff together still. And if I get Freddy and Lou, James will have to choose me too because Merlin knows _they_ can't be separated,"

"Hey!" James protests. "It's not our fault we were raised co-dependently!"

I ignore him. "So that's 6 for me and 3 for Meg, so you give her Liam and Dan and then we're split 5 friends for her and 6 with me and we're a broken unit, houses divided, next thing you know you guys are sneaking holidays behind my back to go see her and then BOOM you're all crying on the floor during spring break because you left your toothpaste at my house!"

The three of them exchange looks. "So this divorce thing really didn't affect you at all huh?" James says.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Maeve asks, worriedly.

"I'm fine it's fine we're good," I brush them off. They look unconvinced. "I just—I told him I would consider it more if we went with a group and got to know each other a little better," Even though, I'm pretty sure, I'm sticking with my original answer. JJ is a great guy and I do like hanging out with him, but I really don't think he's a date for me. "So please, come hang with us?"

"I'll come," Maeve agrees. "And I don't think Vero will be going out with anyone anytime soon so I'm sure she'll go and if Lizzie doesn't have a date she will too but…" She trails off, leaving with words about Lizzie's potential date unspoken

"I don't have a date," Lou says, _too casually_ , definitely excited to have an excuse to hang with Maeve for the day.

I look at James. "Fine," He agrees.

I beam at them all. "You're the best."

* * *

 **A/N:** Hope you all enjoyed this chapter and would love to hear what you think!


	8. eight

I track down the others on my way to Quidditch practice, dressed in an additional quarter-zip over my long sleeve shirt thanks to the extra chill in the air. Liam's got a date with one of the Sixth Year Gryffindors, but Dan agrees to tag along and accepts my grateful hug with a laugh. Even Meg promises to try and meet up with us later in the day once she and Tim spend some time together.

Feeling much better about the whole thing, I make my way down to Quidditch practice, waiting patiently for James to begin. He keeps glancing at me suspiciously as we wait for the rest of the team. "Why are you so cheerful?"

"Just excited to be here,"

His eyes narrow and his suspicious look remains. "You're acting weird,"

"You sure know how to make a girl feel good,"

"That's not what I meant!"

I snicker. "I know, I'm just messing with you,"

James's eye narrow again. "We're going to run 15 laps today,"

"No, please, don't," I whine. "You're wonderful and I love you,"

He snickers. "I know, I'm just messing with you," He mocks me.

I pout back to him. "That was mean."

He slings his arm over my shoulder as we wait for Freddy and Fitz, the last two stragglers, to make their way in. "So we'll stick with 12 then, yeah?"

"Zero?" I ask hopefully.

"Nice try," He says, beginning his jog. "Get running," He calls back.

Scott, who's already following him, picks up his pace. Maddy begins her run with just a secret eye roll at me; I'm so proud. And, with only a few curses muttered under our breath (drastically improved from the long string we used to shout at James), Freddy, Coop, Fitz, and I start running.

"Freddy," I start, once we get into our groove, you know at like the end of lap 3. "We're all going to Hogsmeade together this weekend, you in?"

"Can't," He says. "Busy,"

I frown. "With what?"

"I have a date,"

"With who?"

"Kylie Hendrix,"

I stop running and around me, the three of them do as well. "That Ravenclaw _witch_?"

"Did you mean—"Coop starts.

I cut him off. "I meant what I said. She's evil and I hate her!"

"You were the one who told me to make a move or move on with…"

"With anyone but my new mortal enemy!"

"I feel like you're being a tad dramatic," Freddy hesitates. I stare at him; he looks nervous as he looks back at me. Finally, I start running again, without a word. He breathes out a sigh of relief and follows, Coop and Fitz immediately joining, but as soon as they start, I run a little faster. "Where are you going?"

"Away from you, Brutus!"

"Seriously?" Freddy cries, speeding up to catch up with me.

I break into a full sprint when I see him catching up. "Stop running faster! I can't run any faster than this!"

James turns, looking back to see me pressing forward, Freddy catching up, and Fitz and Coop looking miserable as they try to match his pace. Evidently, James probably just decides he's happy we're even showing minimal effort to run and wants nothing to do with our nonsense, so he turns back around just as Freddy calls back to me. "Me either!"

"Good!" I yell back, catching up with Maddy.

"What is happening back there?" She asks me.

"Don't get old," I tell her.

She looks over her shoulder back at Freddy, Coop, and Fitz, who are all clutching their sides are their brief sprint attempt. "Noted,"

* * *

"Carson!" Maddy calls, while I'm still in the shower, long after practice has ended. "Are you still alive?"

"Yes!" I call back. "You can leave. I'm purposely taking forever to avoid talking to Freddy,"

"Is it really that bad?"

"I am refraining from calling him a Pettigrew out of respect for James' family, but he betrayed me and everything I stand for since 10am this morning!"

I can hear her laugh. "You are my idol,"

"Love you," I shout back to her. "Be careful walking back if no one's out there."

"Yes, Mum,"

There's silence when she leaves and when I finally shut the water off to get dressed, I fill it, singing along to _Purple Pygmy Puffs_ incredibly catchy new album. Damn those boys for putting out a whole collection of bangers. Erin's going to be thrilled when I get home.

Shockingly, though, James is waiting for me outside the locker room when I do eventually leave. He's got an amused grin on his face, leaning against the wall. "Ugh," I say. "I should have known,"

"Should you?" James says, and then, in a terrible imitation, sings, "Or should you wonder what I—"

"Stop!" I shove his chest. He stops singing, thankfully, and starts laughing. "You should never sing, ever. That was awful."

"Oh, like you were much better?"

I laugh. "I wasn't worse," He laughs, agreeing, as we begin our walk back to the castle. "Surprised you were still there,"

"Freddy ran out before I could ask him what happened," He admits. "So I figured I could snag you instead,"

"He's dead to me," I announce.

"He might cry about that," James responds seriously. "But what happened?"

I explain to James about Freddy's date, without mentioning how he feels about Meg since I'm unsure if he's mentioned that to any of the boys yet. He listens, nodding along at the appropriate times. "It's the worst thing he could have done to me!"

"Don't hate me," James starts.

"Not starting off strong,"

He laughs. "Are these your deeply rooted abandonment issues coming to light?"

I firmly shake my head. "No, for once it is not! I am 100% confident he couldn't do that even if he tried!"

"Ok then," James says patiently. "What's your issue?"

"That he asked _that girl_ out on _this day_ ," I say, after a minute of us walking in silence. "If it had been any other girl, I'd have been fine. Hell, if this morning hadn't gone down the way it did, he could have asked this girl out. But I cannot pretend to like this girl now and I will not pretend to like this girl now,"

He snickers. "Divorced child, party of one?" I give him a look. "I wouldn't worry about it Carson. It probably won't last. Freddy doesn't tend to stick with his dates for too long,"

My eyebrows fly up. This is unexpected information. "Why?"

James sighs. "It's—tough, finding someone who doesn't think they already know everything about you, or your parents,"

I bite my lip, feeling slightly guilty now. "Yeah," I slowly let out a breath. "I guess I know what that's like,"

* * *

Saturday morning rolls around to be the kind of beautiful weather that's perfect for walking around in—that not too hot, not too cold, just a little breezy, but brightly sunny kind of day. Meg yanks me out of bed entirely too early but it's worth it to watch her try on eight outfits to impress her boyfriend of two years.

"I don't want to be too cold!" She exclaims.

"You kill me," I laugh, going into the bathroom to shower. By the time I come out, she's settled on a pair of jeans and a light sweater and waiting impatiently to beg me to let her to do my makeup. "Fine," I agree. "But no red lip,"

"C-Dub!" She pouts, but agrees all the same, settling for the neutral palette that I usually go for, but applying it in a much better way than I'll ever achieve.

Meg finishes up with her hair while I rifle through my closet for an outfit, quickly pulling out my favorite denim jacket, a knotted gray v-neck t-shirt, black jeans, and white converse. Meg nods approvingly at it, so we make our way down the breakfast to meet up with the boys.

It's a quick affair today, just grabbing a short meal before Meg ditches us to meet Tim at the Slytherin table and the rest of us head to the Front Hall to meet up with everyone. Vero and Maeve are already waiting for us, unsurprisingly, waiting off the side to let those already ready to go, pass.

"Your ass looks great in those jeans!" Vero says, peering around me.

I turn my head and look, grinning. It definitely does today. "James made us do 200 squats in practice this week to help with our kickoff or something and I was pissed at the time but I mean…" I trail off, punctuating instead with a little booty shake.

She laughs. "Can I come do 200 squats in Quidditch practice?"

"Absolutely," James says.

"No," I whine. "You said we were done with them!"

"You seem to be benefitting from them,"

"That doesn't mean I like them!"

He laughs, turning back to Lou and Dan, and I round on Vero. "Stop encouraging him!"

"Well Jack's been eying you up since he turned the corner so you're clearly doing something right,"

I turn at her words, smiling and waving at Jack and Dave as they make their way down the hall. They both return the sentiment, starting to shove their way through the younger kids faster. "Stop encouraging him too!"

Vero grins back at me. "I'm going to have so much fun today!"

"Can't you keep her on her leash?" I mutter to Maeve, as Jack and Dave approach.

"I've tried in the past," Maeve says. "It doesn't work."

"Damn," I swear.

"Was that a 'damn' like 'dayummmm you fine'?" Jack greets.

"Probably more like 'damn I'm regretting agreeing to this in the first place," Dave jokes.

"Actually, it was 'damn you two were late, what's the hold up'?" I tease.

Jack laughs. "We're here; let's move out."

It takes a few minutes for us all to get organized enough to move out the door and begin the short walk to Hogsmeade. "So does anyone have a plan set out for today?" I ask, during a lull in the conversation, once we get close to the gates. A small silence follows. "Maeve, I'm so disappointed in you!"

"Vero told me to be more fun and spontaneous!" She cries. "I'm so uncomfortable not having one!"

We all start laughing and even Maeve grins after a second. When James recovers, he says, "I thought maybe we'd just walk around for a bit, hit up a few stores for a few hours, and then stop at Three Broomsticks for late lunch or early dinner and a few drinks and just stay there until we're ready to come back?"

"Works for me," Louis says and everyone else agrees so we continue on.

* * *

"Take my picture with Uncle George, handing him my gift card," I lean forward, holding out my Weasley's Wizard Wheezes gift card. Obligingly, Uncle George leans in across the counter, throwing one arm around my shoulders and reaching out with his free hand.

Louis, who I thrown my phone to, says flatly, "Smile," and Uncle George and I both beam.

"5 degree tilt!" Vero screeches and Lou, who's been struggling to get that perfect flattering phone angle all day, tilts the phone too far, only for Vero to yank it out of his hands. "Ugh, give me that." She positions the phone at the _correct_ angle, snaps a few, and hands it over.

The lack of phone service at Hogwarts had been a hard adjustment for me. At Ilvermorny, modern wizard technology was a staple. Hogwarts was so old and rooted in its magic that it was unable to make the adjustments need to allow for phones to work. I'd turned my phone back on in the village to a few texts from my old friends and a slew of messages and pictures from Alicia.

"That was a good one," I say, firing it off to Alicia immediately.

"Are you documenting your first trip to Hogsmeade?" Aunt Angelina asks. She's standing on our side of the counter, behind Louis, having been over helping some younger students with a product they'd had questions with.

"Second," James says from next to me.

"Nice," Uncle George high fives him.

"Sorta," I answer his question. "I'm taking pictures with all my gift cards from Aunt Katie and Uncle Roger and I'm going to print them all before we leave so I can send them one with a little thank you and then I'll send the rest to dad and fawn about how great it was,"

Amidst laughter from his aunt and uncle, James nudges me. "We should go if you want to print those first,"

"JJ! Dave! Leave the pygmy puffs; we're moving on!"

Dave pouts. "But they're so cute!"

* * *

"I've got to say," James says, when we're hours into our day at Three Broomsticks (and a little tipsy, drinks have been flowing). "I'm impressed."

"By what?"

"How well you've managed this day," He gestures around us. Meg and Tim have joined us by now and they're chatting with Dave and Jack while Vero and Maeve have ganged up on Lou, teasing him about the girl he likes (completely unbeknownst to the fact that it's Maeve). "I was pretty skeptical,"

" _Super_ skeptical," Dan adds, leaning over.

"So untrusting," I shake my head. "Like I couldn't navigate my way through a wildly awkward situation and end up on top,"

James and Dan just blink at me, staring blankly. "Has this happened to you before?" Dan asks.

"I mean, not this _exact_ situation,"

They continue to start blankly at me. "I don't even want to know," James says, reaching for his drink.

"Your loss," I shrug. "I'm going to get another drink," I nod at Dan's request for another as well and push my way forward to the bar.

The restaurant is crowded, filled with mostly students, though I spy a few of our professors in the far corner. The music has only recently jumped in volume, taking on more of a bar vibe and less of the restaurant one that we entered a few hours ago. As I wait for my drinks, I chat with a few of the Ravenclaws in Meg's Muggle Studies class at the bar, nodding goodbyes as I grab my drinks and shove my way through the crows, spotting my favorite person on my way back.

"Albus!" I cry, making conscious effort not to spill as I throw myself at him.

He looks entirely unamused as he catches me. "Hi, Carson." He's with Scorpius and a few others, none that I recognize.

"Are you going to come hang out with us?"

Al shakes his head. "I can't, I still don't think my liver has recovered from last time,"

"Hey Carson, I've got a beef about last time!" Scorpius says. "Where was _my_ brunch invite?"

"Al was supposed to invite you, but I think he was too nauseous to talk,"

"English was hard!" He protests.

Scorpius and I exchanges a glance and laugh. "Time to get back on the horse, kid," I tell him.

"Too bad I'm not 17 and can't drink here," Al says, sounding not at all sorry.

"Yeah, it's not like you have a brother or something who likes exactly like you who's totally legal already and willing to pass his own old, fake ID on to you or something," I beam as Al pales. "So, we'll see you soon?"

"Shots, shots, shots, shots," Scorpius cheers as I make my way back to my friends.

Hours later, Al has changed his tune and he's got a drunken grin on his face while he tries to balance a spoon on his nose as James, Dan, Dave, and JJ cheer him on.

The music changes and my eyes light up as they meet Vero's when the opening chords of _Purple Pygmy Puff's_ new single _Girl Next Door_ starts up. James cracks up as I start to sing along, laughing harder when Vero climbs over all of the boys, pulling Maeve along to come dance with me. "No," Maeve protests, pulling back. This is the most drunk I've ever seen her, so she doesn't do a great job, and it's easy for Vero to pull her out of the booth.

"This song is a classic!" I cry.

"I've never been more disappointed in you," JJ says.

I point at him. "Embrace the Purple Pygmy Puffs, the way we have _all_ embraced them,"

Maeve starts loosening up by the third song we start dancing to, sending Vero and I into a fit of giggles as she starts breaking out a few moves and now I understand why she hates dancing. She's terrible. When she breaks out "the Dumbledore," I sit down on the floor in hysterical laughter, unable to stop laughing.

"Why are you on the floor?" Maeve cries, stopping her arm flapping.

I rub my hands over my face. "I need another drink."

Still giggling, Vero helps me up, and the three of us make our way over to the bar. "So what are you going to tell JJ?" Vero asks.

I scrunch my face up. "Do you think I'll have to tell him anything?"

She stares at me. "He's bought all your food and drinks today,"

"Mmmm," I hesitate.

Another stare. "He is staring at you right now,"

"Damn it," I steady myself on the bar as someone bumps me from behind.

"Sorry," I turn, feeling a slight wetness on the sleeve of my jacket. "Didn't mean to—oh hey!"

"Drew!" I grin.

"Oh no!" Maeve cries, seeing the spilled drink and grabbing napkins to clean the spillage on the floor.

He looks down at her and then back to me. "Don't mind her, she's trashed,"

He laughs. "Sorry, we got bumped by that guy," He points to a townie, who'd shoved his way forward.

"Don't worry about it; it'll dry."

He grins; he's got a great smile. "What's up? I hadn't seen any other students in a while. Thought we might be the only ones left, though we're just about the head back"

"We're the drunk ones in the corner over there," I laugh. "Except we do not look like we're heading back soon,"

Drew laughs. "How's your guys Arithmancy project going?"

I exchange a look with Vero, who snorts into her freshly refilled drink, and we both look down at Maeve, who is rubbing circles into the floor with a (now wet) napkin to dry that spot. "I would say ask Maeve, but she seems a little…uhhh busy right now,"

Drew looks down at her, fighting back a laugh. "Yeah just a bit," He smiles at me after he finishes his drink. "I'll catch you guys later; I'm being called away,"

"Bye Drew," He waves as he heads over to his friends and Vero turns to me.

"I see."

"You see what?"

"Why you don't like JJ,"

"You see nothing!" I cry. "There's nothing to see here except Maeve acting like a drunk slob!"

"These napkins have no absorbency to them!" She cries from the ground. "How am I supposed to clean the spill?"

Vero and I exchange a look and I bite my lip to fight back a laugh. "I mean, we should at least bring her back to the table,"

Vero nods. "I could sit for a little,"

I nod. "Cheese fries sound good,"

"Cheese fries?" Maeve cries, abandoning her napkin. "Where?"

I reach out to help her up from the floor. "Over here honey, come on."

She beams, throwing her arms around my neck. "Yay, Carson!"

What a mess. I'm so proud of this girl.

* * *

 **A/N:** Happy you're all enjoying this and hope you continue to do so! Drop a review and let me know what you think of this one.


	9. nine

Freddy is sitting alone in the Common Room, mindlessly flipping through a textbook far too quickly to actually be reading something to put in the essay that lies half-written in front of him. Though there's only minimal room left on the chair and a half he's on, I squeeze myself beside him when I approach.

"Hi," He says, sounding amused, as I bury my face in his shoulder.

"Sorry," I mumble into his sweater.

"What was that?"

I lift my head. "I'm sorry," I pause. "About last week."

"Oh," Freddy says

"Even though I don't like her, I should have been nicer about it and not overreacted like I did," I nod, mentally ticking off boxes in the apology I'd outlined in my head during Defense today. "And to show I support you even in this nonsense, I will sit here and ask you how your date went,"

Freddy sighs. "It pains me to admit you were right, but not great. She's mean!"

"Hah! I mean..."

Freddy fights back a smile. "She talked a lot of shit about you guys,"

My eyes narrow. "Wait until I tell Lou,"

Freddy frowns. "What?"

"Don't worry about it; it's not important," Not important to him, that is, Herbology is going to be LIT this week.

He gives me a look, like he sees right through me, but he lets it pass. "So what'd you end up telling Jennings after your date?"

"Didn't have to say anything; he came up to me in the library this morning!" I grin triumphantly, then pause. "Wait, how'd you know I was going to talk to him?"

Freddy laughs out loud. "I have never seen anyone _less excited_ about a date,"

"That's not fair! I was very excited to get a free meal!"

Another laugh. "Now that sounds about right,"

It's my turn to laugh. "He insisted! And in the words of your own mother, "if a boy wants to buy you a drink, let him, unless he looks like a creepy murderer,"" He gives me a look. "Direct quote. We stopped by on Saturday,"

"Oh, you did?"

I nod, grinning. "We did. Actually, seems like everyone did...except for you and Roxy, awks,"

"Well, I wasn't going to bring Kylie there!"

I shrug. "You've been demoted. I'm now the favorite child,"

"You're not even related to us!" He cries.

"You should have thought of that when you didn't visit them,"

He pokes my side. "I don't need this guilt from you,"

"You're right; you'll get enough of it from your mom!"

Freddy pales, leaning back into the chair, like he's just realizing this. "Shit." He repeats the sentiment, drawing out the word a second time.

I lean back against him. "You'll be okay,"

"Yeah," He says absentmindedly, like he's still a little unconvinced.

"Hey," I nudge him, trying to catch his attention; he looks down at me. "Are _we_ okay?"

He grins, holding his fist out for me to pound. "'Course, C-Dub,"

I return both the pound and the smile before leaning into his side more. "Good,"

* * *

"See you and Freddy are back on speaking terms," James reaches for another shell. Since our first visit to the kitchens for Taco Tuesday, we'd been back every week, quickly forming a weekly ritual to discuss Quidditch strategy over dinner and margs. And also, our professors, classmates, petty friend drama, sibling squabbles (his mostly, though we did craft one memorable letter home to my family when Erin tried to make claim on our grandmother's necklace to play dress up in), but mostly Quidditch. "Ruining practice again and corrupting the youths."

"Rude," I chide. "Also, youths? Seriously, old man?"

He laughs. "Seriously, though, you guys all good?"

I nod, sipping my marg to cleanse my palate between my last chicken taco and my next one, which I've decided will be beef. "Yeah, we talked the other night and-"I slam my hand on the table, suddenly remembering. "Did he tell what she said about us?"

"A little bit,"

I recap, in what may be considered an "overly dramatic fashion," sure James, whatever, but he gets the sentiment, and laughs along to my story. "She's the worst!"

"Pretty awful," James agrees. "But see, I told you that you wouldn't need to be nice to her for long,"

"Ugh,"

"I believe the words you're looking for are 'you were right, James,'"

"Ugh," I repeat, but can't stop my mouth from morphing into a smile afterwards and he grins triumphantly.

"Maybe you and Lou will be less bitter and we can talk about something else in Herbology now?" He says pointedly.

"After tomorrow, once we re-group, yeah sure,"

It's his turn to give an exaggerated groan. "Can't you save that for the weekend or something? I'll throw you another party."

I shake my head. "No can do, Lizzie's declared girls' day this weekend for her birthday,"

"And you don't think Lou's going to try and tag along to that? Surely, Maeve will be there?"

It's impossible to fight back the laugh and James quickly joins in. "You've all been banned. All she wants is to spend the day at the spa with the girls. Maeve already booked the appointments." I look down at my hands. "My cuticles are a mess and I've been peeling my split ends when I'm bored in class, so I really need this."

"I didn't understand a word of that,"

"Your Quidditch practice is _the reason_ my cuticles are so torn up so really _you_ should be paying for my manicure,"

"Don't push your luck," I giggle, watching him lean back in his chair. "So no party, huh? I mean, that's good for us, we would have been behind on planning, but I'm surprised. I would have pegged Maeve as going for a girls' day no party kind of gal, but not Lizzie."

I make a face, surveying the table in front of me, and settling on a chip with queso while I decide my next taco. "Mmm, Lizzie likes her close friends more than a crowd and all those girly drinks she like are part of the spa package; this is like her perfect day," He moves his head back and forth, before nodding, as if conceding the point, and then I address his earlier qualm, reaching for more queso. "You should save your resources anyway. Meg's planning on making us all dress up to go out to dinner and then wants a casino themed party in the Room of Requirment,"

James frowns. "Isn't her birthday not until May?"

I nod. "Right in the middle of NEWT studying. She says it'll be a nice study break for everyone,"

He rubs his temples with his hand. "Classic Meg,"

I beam. "Should we start planning next week or..."

He throws a chip at me. "Shut up and keep eating,"

* * *

"You have great hair!" Nadia, one of the hairdressers at Lizzie's favorite spa, runs her fingers through my freshly done hair, as she admires her own work.

"Doesn't she?" Meg comes up behind me, resting her chin on my shoulder. "It's so soft,"

Nadia laughs. "I love the color. And the balayage looks great in it, really brings out the natural highlights," She purses her lips as she assesses my face in the mirror. "You'd look great with a red lip."

"I keep telling her that!" Meg exclaims.

"Ratchel's fond of a red lip," I explain, sipping my wine and spinning in my chair to face the rest of the girls now that Nadia's finished. "And generally what Ratchel likes, I don't,"

"Ratchel?" Meg repeats.

"My mom," I move to follow her to the couch and open the chair for Vero. We'd all spent the morning getting facials and massages, followed by an incredible lunch on the veranda, before moving on to be pampered more. "It's a combo of ratchet and Rachel,"

Everyone descends into laughter, with Nadia yanking her scissors away from Vero's dark locks just in time. "Is she where you get your hair from?"

"Color from dad, everything else from her,"

"Nadia, don't you know who she is?" Vero asks at the same time as I answer.

Nadia looks over at me briefly, as does Stefania, one of the manicurists working on Maeve's nails, but it's Katerina the waxer who gasps suddenly and says, "Ratch-Rachel! Rachel Pohl and Oliver Wood,"

The look on my face just causes more laughter around the room and once I move past the awkward smile-grimace I'd managed, I join them. "I used to have such a crush on your dad," Stefania admits.

"Don't start that line of discussion again," Maeve warns, just as Vero is about to open her mouth.

"What?" Meg grips my hand, excitedly. "What did I miss?"

Again, Vero opens her mouth, but I point and glare her into submission. She allows Nadia to return to cutting her hair and I turn to Meg. "I'll tell you later."

"Ohh juicy gossip," She squeals. "I'm so excited." She polishes off her glass of wine and pours herself more. "Why's it so hard to get a glass of rosé in restaurants?"

I stare over at her glass then back at my own glass of Malbec. "That's a summer wine. Season ends first week of September."

"Oh,"

The casual abruptness of her statement sends me into a fit of laughter and she soon joins me. We just about settle down when Lizzie squeezes her way down with us, hands held in front of her with a fresh manicure and a gillywater daquiri. "I'm so glad we could do this,"

"I thought for sure you'd have Quidditch today," Meg looks at me.

"Tomorrow; James likes to book Sunday practices,"

She nods. "Yeah, I just figured with the match next weekend he'd have you out there every free minute,"

"Slytherin has it all day today and then we get it all day tomorrow," I say, just as Lizzie lets out a huge gasp.

"Vero, I forgot Carson has Quidditch next weekend you have to come with me now!" She says.

"I told you; I'm not going near any of them, Lizz!" Vero snaps. The tone is incredibly uncharacteristic of her. Sure, of my three Hufflepuff friends, she's the one most similar to me-the one with some sass, a bit of sarcasm, who's got an answer for everything-but the clear difference between the two of us has always been the lack of attitude. There's a definite sweetness to Vero that I've always lacked, but that last comment was as if she was channeling me on my worst day.

"Ok, sorry," Lizzie looks down at the ground. Meg puts her arm around her shoulders, rubbing the left one comfortingly.

"Vero," Maeve says sharply.

Vero's eyes close for a moment and when she opens them, her dark eyes are shining, like she's fighting back tears. "I'm sorry, Lizz; I didn't mean to snap at you,"

"I just didn't think!" Lizzie looks up. She's got tears shining in her eyes too, but for an entirely different reason, I'm sure. "I was going to ask Carson to come with me because I figured she wouldn't care but then Meg mentioned Quidditch and I panicked, I didn't want to go alone!"

There's silence in the room. Nadia hasn't resumed working on Vero's hair since this discussion started, too afraid she'll suddenly move. Katerina, busy prepping for Meg's turn waxing, and Stefania, working on Maeve's nails, stop everything to listen. Even my breathing feels too loud as Maeve, Vero, and Lizzie look at each other. "What happened?" Meg asks finally, her voice still so quiet but it still sounds like it shatters the room around us.

"Do you remember last year, I dated Lycus?" Meg nods and Vero turns to me. "We started dating ending of Fifth Year, his Sixth, he's a year above. Got serious over that summer. Stayed together all last year, through last summer. I came back to school and in the second week, he sent me a letter and told me " _things weren't working anymore"_ and that _"he's been seeing another girl for a few months now and he wants to see how things go with her_ ,"" She finishes bitterly.

My jaw drops, and I hear Meg gasp beside me. "What a douche!" I finally get out.

"The worst," Maeve agrees.

"Why are _you_ even seeing him?" I turn to Lizzie.

"I'm not seeing him," She explains. "But...but we got really close with the rest of last year's Seventh Years, and we're still kind of close with them; it was a whole thing after the break up, which ones we should stay friends with." Vero and Maeve nod in confirmation. "A few of them owled me to tell me they wanted to take me out for my birthday and I knew Vero wouldn't want to go so Iwasgoingtoaskyou," She finishes quickly.

I beam. "Awww, I'm honored to be your first second choice," She beams back. "But James will kill me if I'm not at Quidditch,"

She shrugs. "I'll raincheck. I want to watch your first game anyway.",

I lay my hand over my heart. "I'm flattered you postponed a date to watch me play,"

Her face lights up. "Guys, can we make matching t-shirts?"

"I take it back; go on your date without me,"

* * *

 **A/N:** Let me know what you think; thanks for reading!


	10. ten

"Is she-"James trails off, looking at Maddy. She looks only a little green, tucked in her own little corner away from most of the team, muttering to herself, as she braids her hair over and over again, unable to get it just right.

The morning of our first Quidditch match is the kind of weather Quidditch players dream about-not overly sunny, only slightly breezy, and an all-around perfect, crisp, fall day. James has already been outside and back to give us the wind report-yep, you heard me right; a full report about speed, direction, and gusts-and now we're just waiting patiently for game time.

Or at least, some of us are. James and I are as calm as can be; you can tell this is neither of our first rodeos. Coop's sitting in his locker, psyching himself up, stretching out just a little extra. Freddy and Fitz are on the other side of the locker room doing what I've been told is their usual pre-game ritual; it involves a lot of jumping and arm swinging with some loud noises as they occasionally sing along to the pump-up music they'd put on.

And then there's Maddy and Scott. For all that Maddy looks like she's about to be sick, Scott just looks wide-eyed, like he still can't believe he's here, even after an entire year on the team. They're tucked on opposite sides of the locker room, her constantly fidgeting as she tries to make herself as small as she can in one corner, and him on the other side sitting so still he looks statuesque.

I bring my gaze back over to her. Maddy's twirling a lock of dark hair around her finger looking every bit the 12 year old girl she still is; sometimes it's so easy to forgot how young she is. "I'll take care of her; you get him?" I nod over to Scotty.

"Come off it!" James protests. "Why do you have to give me the moody teenager?"

"They're both moody teenagers!" I bump my shoulder into his. "Besides, you're captain, which means you don't get to pick and choose the problems you deal with,"

I fight back a smile at his laugh as I make my way over to Maddy, pushing my way into her space to put an arm around her. She curls immediately into my side and leans against me. "Hi, hun,"

"Hi Carson,"

"You doing okay?"

She takes a deep, steadying breath. "How do you get-not nervous?"

I falter, thankful James hadn't been the one to come over here. We'd talked first games on Taco Tuesday this week. I'd never found Quidditch something to be particularly nervous about. With Dad being who he was, I'd never felt a need to be perfect at the sport, knowing I'd never live up to the hype, and thus crippling anxiety never followed.

James, meanwhile, felt constant pressure to live up to his family name, but learned to manage it well and used it as fire to fuel his game. During his first match in his Second Year, once he'd scored 10 goals, Slytherin saw him as too much of a threat, and began targeting him with bludgers until they knocked him off his broom.

Worth it when they won, he says.

Spoken like a true Quidditch captain, that little voice in the back of my head that sounds like Dad says.

But that's definitely not the story I'll be telling Maddy. "You don't," I tell her honestly. Her head whips up; I'm sure that's not the answer she was looking for. "You just go out there and you do what you've been doing in practice and eventually you realize you don't hear the crowd anymore or notice your stomach. It just-it just happens. Take a few deep breaths before you go out, but really, Mads, _take it in_. You only get one first Quidditch game, and this it is. Don't let your nerves get in the way of your day. You're fucking good at what you do so go out there and show everyone!"

She's smiling by the time I finish and she looks a lot better once I squeeze her shoulders. "You should be a motivational speaker once you graduate,"

"You are the first and probably only person to say that," I tell her. "Believe me, if you've heard other speeches I've made, you'd take that back," She bursts into laughter and I smile, tapping the ground in front of me with my foot. "Now come on, I'll braid your hair while James gives his pre-game speech,"

She looks 100% more confident as we're lined up, waiting to enter for the game. Her breathing is even, her face is the epitome of cool as she watches Freddy bounce in anticipation, and she merely flips her one long braid (perfectly done, not to toot my own horn) over one shoulder when James asks if she's alright.

"What did you say to her?" James mutters to me. "She's like a whole new person!" But before I can open my mouth to respond, our team is being called out.

The roar of the crowd around us brings a grin to my face as we fly our opening lap around the pitch before landing across from the Slytherin team. James steps forward to shake hands with their captain, with his Intense Captain Look on his face.

And then, we're waiting.

Immediately upon kickoff, I'm able to snag possession of the Quaffle, and I know James is smiling to my right. Less than a minute later, he's absolutely beaming as we watch my shot sail into the right hoop and the Slytherin Keeper's face looks utterly baffled.

"Hate to say I told you so," James calls to me, as we move into defensive positions

"You love to say I told you so!" I call back, chasing down one of the Slytherin Chasers.

But quickly, I find he wasn't wrong. We jump to a 130-point lead before Slytherin's captain calls timeout. Their Keeper looks frazzled as he flies to meet the rest of the team; he's moved on past furious at least, that was really wasn't doing him any good. The others don't look much better. Their Chasers are frustrated; the two Beaters, who look least annoyed even though they've spent most of the game battling Freddy and Fitz for control of the bludgers, have spent the time out thus far glancing furtively in our direction; and their Seeker looks like he wants to snap his broom in half.

The vibe of our own timeout is _entirely_ different. Coop's let in only two goals all game and with the three of us performing so strongly on offense, he hasn't even seen too much action otherwise. Freddy and Fitz have done well with the bludgers all game, keeping them away from Maddy, while working around us.

James doesn't have a single bad thing to say. "Keep up the good work," He advises. "We show no pity until we're up by at least 150,"

And that's how Gryffindor wins the match 380-60.

* * *

"Holy fuck!" I drop the beer someone had thrust into my hand as soon as the team had entered the Common Room and burst into laughter so hard it's silent. "I-I can't believe you actually did it!" I gasp out.

"Do you love it?" Lizzie beams.

"Greatest thing I've ever seen," She, Vero, Maeve, and Meg are all in matching outfits consisting of jeans and white t-shirts with red letters spelling out CDUB.

"No, greatest thing was when Lizzie and Vero accidentally sat in the wrong spots and they spelled DCUB for the first 45 minutes," Liam sniggers.

"Did no one take pictures?" I cry.

"Um, no," Louis says.

"Ugh, you guys are the worst!" I complain.

"You're the worst!" Meg returns lamely, before brightening. "Just kidding, you were the best! You crushed it!"

"Thanks! I felt like even though I was statistically on point, I started getting sloppy at the end; my Harper-Wilde percentage started to tank once our lead hit two hundred," They all stare at me. "What?"

"How do you even know your-Happy woppy..." Lizzie tries.

"Harper-Wilde," I correct. "It's a measure of how well a Chaser generates offense by adding up all their shots on each hoop, blocked shots, and missed shots, so it's actually pretty easy to calculate,"

More blank stares as Freddy and James finally come up to me. Freddy, thankfully, has an extra beer in his hand that he passes to me. "What's going on?" He asks, looking around at our friends, with a weird look on his face.

"Carson's a secret nerd," Louis answers.

"Hey!" I protest. "I have never hidden my love for Arithmancy! You _know_ it's my favorite subject,"

Meg has an overly dramatic, traumatized look on her face. "I don't think I can be friends with you anymore,"

"Fine, I'll find someone less dramatic,"

She huffs. "And now I _don't want_ to be friends with you! Come on, Maeve,"

She tugs on Maeve's arm, pulling her toward the center of the room, which has turned into a make-shift dance floor. Maeve turns back panicked and says, "Someone please save me!" before we lose sight of them in the crowd.

"Someone really should save her, she's a terrible dancer," I say, but instead of making any effort to go help her, I flop back on the couch seat she and Meg had previously occupied.

Vero giggles from next to me. "Save everyone else, more like,"

"Can we see "The Dumbledore" from here?" We crane our necks.

"The what?" James' voice comes from my left and I turn. If I never see Maeve attempt that move again, it'll still be a day too soon.

But really, love that girl.

"You're better off not knowing," I assure him. He's sitting on the arm of the couch I'm on, so he looks even taller than usual, and I tuck my leg under me to push myself up higher.

He grins knowingly, but doesn't comment on that, choosing instead to focus on something else. "Like I'm better off not knowing about your secret nerd tendencies?"

"They are not secret-I mean nerdy!" I slap my hand down on his leg in excitement. The shots he, Freddy, Coop, and I had taken with a few of Coop's friends immediately upon entering, along with the beers I've been sipping as I made my way over to our friends have started to hit me. "And you would be proud of my nerd-I mean not-nerd tendencies! I was _explaining_ how I calculated my Harper-Wilde today and-"

He cuts me of, _obviously_ just as excited. "You calculated your Harper-Wilde today?" I nod slowly. "Can you do mine?"

"I mean, I'd need the data, but yeah. Sorry, I wasn't sitting there counting your shot attempts,"

"I'm impressed you were counting _yours_ ," James says.

"If you get me all the data, I can do a lot with it," I muse. "Harper-Wilde, Hogg Negative, SSR."

Freddy, who'd just popped his head over into our conversation, is making wild gestures behind James as he repeatedly mouths the word, "NO," but James looks at me with stars in his eyes, like Christmas has come early. "You can have all the queso on Tuesday,"

I throw my arms around him. "Thank you thank you thank you!"

* * *

"Maeve," Lizzie drops down on the floor in front of us, interrupting Liam's turn in the Exploding Snap drinking game. The cards explode suddenly as her movement sends a rush of air at them and he cries out in shock as we all laugh, but she ignores him in favor of tugging at Maeve's jeans. "I don't think I can make it back to the Common Room tonight,"

"Seriously?" Maeve's jaw drops.

"Thank Merlin," Vero says at the same time. "I thought it was just me,"

"Seriously!" Maeve cries louder, both in outrage and to be heard over the rest of us laughing. "How am I supposed to get _both_ of you back to the dorm when you're trashed?"

"I'll sleep on the floor right here," Vero taps beside her. "I don't care." Maeve glares her scariest death glare, the one that makes you feel like you need to be doing more with your life. Vero, evidently more experienced with this look, doesn't even flinch.

"You can stay up with me," I suggest. "Two of you can take Meg's bed and the other can sleep with me,"

"Dibs on Maeve!" Vero and Lizzie both call immediately.

"What, why?" Freddy asks the question we're all thinking.

"She literally doesn't move when she sleeps! She takes her half and she's completely still. It's actually kind of creepy, like she looks kind of dead!" Lizzie holds her fist out. "Cloak, stone, wand for it?"

The rest of us go back to setting up the cards for another round, since it's not settled we're all staying. "Won't your roommates be mad?" Maeve asks.

I shrug. "We don't see them that often; they both have boyfriends in Ravenclaw and they stay there a lot. Dunno if they'll be mad but I don't think I care," I pull a card.

"Carson!"

"They were mean to Meg!" In like First Year, but still. Point stands.

She laughs. "If you're sure,"

I nod, then brighten. "And then we can go up to Hogsmeade for brunch tomorrow!" It's immediately met with nods of agreement. "Cool, Meg and I talked about it already and she's definitely down; she said she'll try and come back early so we could,"

James frowns. "Where even is Meg?"

"With Tim!"

"When did she leave to go there?"

I stare at him. "He came here to pick her up and stayed for like an hour. You did three shots with him?"

He slams his hand on the table-a poor decision, as it sends the cards flying into another explosion; Lou's eyebrows singe, it's hilarious-but James only looks drunkenly outraged as he continues. "How dare that snakey scum show his face in this Common Room today?"

"Yeah!" Freddy cries in agreement.

"We beat them!" Coop says, from his spot on the far side of the circle, where most of he and his Sixth Year friends are occupying.

"You like them now!" I cry.

"They're not even on the team!" Maeve says logically.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Freddy asks.

Maeve rubs her fingers on her temples. "I think I'm ready for bed. Please don't even wake me for brunch,"

* * *

I slip my arm into the crook of Meg's elbow as we're making our way back to Hogwarts. Our second attempt at brunch going much smoother than our first, it's only mid- afternoon and we're all only pleasantly tipsy instead of fall-over drunk.

We've become such good adults.

In seriousness, though, it'd been the perfect meal. Between Quidditch and midterms, it feels like it's been ages since all my best friends have been able to get together in one place, just the group of us, and it was easy to tell from the general chattiness and overall vibe at our table.

The exception being my blonde best friend, who'd spent the entire meal uncharacteristically quiet. Even now, as we walk back, she hides herself at the back of the group instead of intermingling within the middle, making fun of Dan's bed head, which he hadn't bothered to brush before we left.

"What's wrong?" She opens her mouth, but I cut her off. "And don't try and tell me you're just hungover; this is way more than that."

She pouts, but her cheeks are turning redder as she continues to look at the ground. "I didn't think I was that drunk last night!"

My head snaps over to look at her. "What happened? Do you remember?"

Her cheeks are still bright red as she finally meets my gaze. "Nothing! I mean, yes I remember evverything, but nothing major happened; we had sex, nothing unusual and went to bed," Her entire face is bright red and I'm so fascinated. "But I don't-we always shut the curtains!"

"Oh my god!"

"I know!" She wails. Between the two of our exclamations, we catch the attention of Louis and James; my side eye has them turning right back around. "Carson, I woke up naked in Tim's bed, _without the covers on_ , surrounded by his roommates. I can _literally_ never go back there,"

I'm laughing so hard I need to bend over to breathe. "You act like you're the first person to wake up naked in the middle of a room full of people. I did it twice last year on Spring Break alone. Once was on a raft in the middle of a pool!"

She stares at me like she doesn't know whether to laugh or cry. "You-what?"

"A bunch of us from Ilvermorny went to New Orleans for Spring Break last year, which is second only to Las Vegas for title of Land of Bad Decisions. There's no open container laws so you just walk down the street drinking which is why I can't tell you _how_ I ended up waking up on a raft in a pool naked, but I can tell you I was not the only one of my friends who did."

She's giggling. "You're right, that did make me feel better. How did you not drown?"

I shrug. "I woke up mid-morning so sure, it was rough other people saw me, but I was still way better off than Dickie Roberts, who couldn't be woken up until the afternoon and by then his whole front was sunburnt, including his, well, you know,"

Her jaw drops. "Please tell me that's why his name is Dickie?"

"Ironically, no,"

Her laugh has James and Freddy turning, both smiling when they notice the grin back on her face. Even Lou taps her nicely on the shoulder as he holds the door for all of us and she returns the sentiment with a loving elbow to his gut.

My girl's back.

"Miss Wood," Professor Longbottom calls abruptly, from the top of a flight of stairs. His tone is...clipped; it's missing that faint spaciness it usually has.

"Hi, Professor,"

"Can we talk in my office?"

I'm certain that I jerk backwards, only steadied by one of the boys now behind me. "Uh, sure, of course,"

"Is everything alright, Neville?" James asks, his arm still against my shoulder blades. Of course, he'd be the one to save me; he seems to be my constant rock these days.

In hindsight, I should have known something was off right away, when Professor Longbottom didn't bother correcting him. "It's alright, James. Carson?"

"Do you want me to come with you?" James asks, looking me directly in the eye.

I shake my head, feeling slightly more drunk when I do so. Maybe I should say yes. "I'll be okay. I'll come find you guys later, promise,"

* * *

 **A/N:** Drop a review and let me know what you thought? I always appreciate the feedback. Thanks for reading!


	11. eleven

The boys' dormitory is emptier than I thought it would be, with only James and Fred occupying their beds, and immediately stopping their conversation when I enter.

"What'd Neville want?" Freddy asks, sitting up.

"My-my grandfather died," My brow furrows.

James sits up as well, eyes going wide, and Freddy's jaw drops as they both stare at me for a moment. "I'm so sorry." Freddy says after a minute.

"I'm not?" I sit on James' bed-the one closest to me-and draw my feet up with me. "He-he wasn't a nice man,"

Both of them look lost; it's clear neither of them knows how to handle that. "Are you sure you're ok?" James asks finally.

"I'm fine. I'm not like broken up about this. He was a mean, vindictive man who made my dad miserable. I'm kinda sad that my dad doesn't have a dad anymore, no matter what their relationship may be, but I'm not sad that _that man_ isn't around anymore," I take a deep breath to calm down, feeling James' hand come to rest on my back. "I just wanted to come tell you I may be late to practice on Monday. I'm going to go spend today and tomorrow with my dad,"

"Of course," James says. "Don't worry about practice. Do whatever."

I glare at him. "Don't treat me any differently because of this. It was a grandfather I didn't like or really even know; it wasn't like it was someone special!"

A small grin spreads across his face. "Then don't be late tomorrow,"

I smile. "That's better,"

* * *

The Wood-well I suppose the word would be Estate, which I do believe is what Grandfather has always referred to the house, though Dad's words were always a bit more...colorful-looks as intimidating and imposing as I remember. It's dark and gray, the gothic style architecture only furthering the scare factor, and despite the lush grounds, wide windows, and open space, it lacks all the warmth of my favorite castle in Scotland.

Wood Estate's got nothing on Hogwarts.

When I was little, I remember coming here every year. Dad would make me put my best dress on, we'd sit stiffly in the Formal Living Room and make stilted conversation until one of the house elves announced dinner, and then we'd move to the Formal Dining Room to eat and make more stilted conversation before we were dismissed.

It's only in hindsight that I remember the stilted conversation was more pointed barbs at Dad's decisions.

The house elf in the Grand Entrance lets me in (a different one than I remember) and Alicia is in the Informal Living Room, handling the funeral arrangements, but unsurprisingly my siblings are nowhere to be found. I can't remember the exact date of the falling out, though I'm certain it was before any of them were born, but sometime after Dad and Alicia had starting dating. A memorable dinner stands out in my brain, where Dad and I met her for ice cream after he and Grandfather had gotten into a huge fight.

She abandons the arrangements (and the woman who'd been helping her, who looks slightly annoyed) to come over and hug me. "Hi,"

"Hi," I mutter into her shoulder.

"Are you doing okay?" She asks, pulling away.

I nod. "Where's Grandmother?"

Alicia closes her eyes for a moment and fights back a laugh. "She checked herself into a spa retreat because she _couldn't possibly_ show up to the funeral with wrinkles _this large_ ," She waves her hands around in what I know is an imitation of Grandmother before she left.

It's impossible for me to hold back my laugh. So typical. "Ugh, it's going to be _so exciting_ when she comes back drunk and can't stand up!"

This time she does laugh and the woman who'd been helping her looks scandalized. "It's going to be my secret greatest joy," Alicia admits.

"Where's Dad?" I ask.

"Upstairs," She says. "It's good you came; you should go find him,"

So I grab the (very old, very fancy) bottle of Odgen's Old Firewhisky and two tumblers and make my way upstairs to find Dad.

He's down at the end of the hallway, in Grandfather's study, staring out the window and looking every bit the broody human most of Alicia's pictures and stories from school feature him as (exceptions being after their Cup win). At some point, he must have been going through papers in the desk, as there are open files and pieces of parchment everywhere, but he's abandoned the task in favor of looking out on the grounds.

I slip in next to him, settling into the window seat in front of him, pulling my legs into a criss-cross position under me, and pouring a drink for each of us. Dad accepts his, humming his thanks, and I join him in his silence, looking out the window.

In the distance far off, you can see the few golf holes Grandfather had put in, his favorite No-Maj hobby and way to relax. Closer to the house, and where Dad's and my eyes both go, are the Quidditch hoops, where Dad had spent his days playing as a kid when Grandmother would shoo him out of the house so as not to get in the way. In his early days, he told me he'd been a one-man Chaser, coming up with elaborate shots and plays. As he got better and began missing less and less, he convinced one of the house elves to bewitch the Quaffle to fly toward him so that he could make the saves.

The rest, as they say, is history.

"Do you remember," I begin, after a few minutes of silence. I've never done well with quiet. "Do you remember that time we came here for dinner, when I was, I don't know maybe four-five years old? I don't think Alicia was around yet, but it wasn't long after." Dad raises his eyebrows at me, as if gesturing me along. "And Grandmother got so drunk she tripped and pulled the table cloth off and spilled dinner all over Grandfather's lap."

Dad laughs, but it's a quiet one, more of a smile with a little huff of breath. "How could I forget? The Head of the Department of Transportation was there,"

"My future mommy," I add sarcastically, remembering how blatantly Grandmother had been trying to set her up with Dad.

Dad shakes his head and finally sits down with me, arranging himself so we're still facing each other. "I'd forgotten how miserable it was coming here."

"The worst," I agree.

"I should have let you stay home," Dad pours himself another whisky. "But I just didn't want to be like _him_ and that's exactly what he would have done,"

My finger circles the rim of my glass, as I look up at him, slightly confused. "It was the worst because they're terrible, not because I didn't want to be here,"

"What?"

"It didn't matter where we were; I just liked spending time with you," I look him in the eyes. "And you weren't-aren't anything like him. You never were, and you still aren't. Grandfather wouldn't do like 90% of the things you do for us! You think he'd invite me to Quidditch practice just because I seemed bored? Bring Parker and Colton to the locker room to meet their favorite players? Dress up like Prince Charming so Erin would have a match for her Halloween costume?"

I cannot for the life of me understand how he's doubting anything he's ever done as a dad. He's the parent that's been there for me for as long as I can remember. Hell, he used to send me Howlers where he spoke at a normal volume, way back when I couldn't read, just so we could still communicate. "You're a really good dad," I tell him. "And I mean, barring a few not-so-healthy meals and outfits Mom or Alicia wouldn't have let me be caught dead in," He mock glares at me. "You always have been, even back when it was just you and me against the world," He smiles. "Well, the world and mom, a force of her own,"

That gets a laugh. "You know, Mum and Dad actually liked your mother?" My eyes widen as I choke on the sip of whisky I'd just taken. "In hindsight, that maybe should have been the first clue but hey, at least I got you, right?"

"The grandest prize of all," I agree.

* * *

True talent is being able to pull your hair into a ponytail while running to Quidditch practice with your broom in hand.

At least, that's what I tell myself as I'm jogging toward the Pitch.

What I will _never_ tell James is that all his stupid laps must be working, because I'm only mildly out of breath as I reach the team huddle. Damn it, I hate when he's right.

"Sorry!" I interrupt whatever he's saying.

"Late!" Coop cries.

"Is it one minute for every lap?" Fitz says giddily.

"She'll be here all day; she'll never get in the air," Coop responds.

"It's fine; sit down, Carson," James says.

Their jaws drop. "What?" They cry simultaneously.

"My grandfather died!" I cry back.

"Shit," Coop swears.

"Sorry for your loss," Fitz's eyes are wide.

"Anyway, as I was just getting to," James glares over at the three of us. The two of them slouch lower but I beam back at him. "Carson's going to be looking at our game tape and pulling all our stats from it to help you all improve and make the strategy for the Hufflepuff game."

There's silence. Then, "what was wrong with the strategy from last game?" Scotty asks.

"We can't have me do most of the shooting again." I say logically. "They'll expect that so we have to come up with a whole new one,"

"Will you picking apart all my flaws mean I have to run less?" Fitz asks.

"No," James answers, at the same time that I say, "Yes,"

We look at each other. "Seriously?"

"Well, yeah, we're going to need more time to focus on individual performances. Where did you want to take that from?"

James frowns. "TBD on the running,"

"I'd like to negotiate a decrease my own laps regardless, since you know, I'm taking the time out of my own day to hand calculate these individual and team numbers," I say, the grin forming over my face. "I was thinking like 50% maybe, but I can be flexible with that number,"

Freddy's biting one of his fingers to prevent his laughter from escaping but it's James' death stare that sends me into a fit of giggles. "Just-get on your brooms, all of you,"

* * *

The Puff girls react exactly as I'd anticipated when I show up to Arithmancy on Wednesday. As I'd been absent Monday, it doesn't surprise me that they'd tracked one of our friends down for more information and I'm sure under Maeve's second scariest death glare, the one where you're sure the tiny petite blonde will beat you down, someone (Louis, it was definitely Lou) cracked and told them about my meeting with Professor Longbottom on Sunday afternoon.

So I'm not at all surprised to find Maeve waiting with her arms wide open, Lizzie with tears in her eyes, and Vero looking uncomfortable and unimpressed with the two of them.

"We don't-have to...talk about this," I say, giving Maeve the hug I know she won't let me back out on and patting her shoulder awkwardly.

"Oh thank Merlin," Vero says.

"But do you want to?" Lizzie's voice wobbles.

"No,"

"Are you sure?" Maeve pushes.

"Yes,"

"But-" Lizzie starts.

I cut her off. "Guys, really I appreciate the worry, but I'm _fine_. He was mean, vindictive, and manipulative and I haven't seen him in years. I just want to go to the funeral and be done with this,"

Maeve opens her mouth to respond but Vero cuts her off. "Guys," She says, warningly. "Enough," Maeve nods, settling for reorganizing her desk.

"Thanks," I say and then there's silence for a while as Professor O'Neal begins class.

Afterwards, I approach him, one of the few students who do, joking with Drew, who's right behind me. We're the last two in line, laughing under our breath at the look on Professor O'Neal's face as he continues to explain a concept to one of the Slytherins in our class and but the questions he keeps getting are circling around to the same concept she doesn't seem to get from last week's lesson. "Come see me tomorrow during office hours. You two, what's the problem?"

We exchange a look, trying to curb our laughter, and Drew gestures me forward. "I just wanted to apologize for missing class on Monday," I say quickly, not wanting to irritate him any further. "I had a death in the family, but I got the notes from Maeve so I wouldn't be behind."

Drew's eyes are wide next to me, but Professor O'Neal, bless his heart, says, "Good, thanks for letting me know. Next?"

I step back and gather my things as Drew asks his quick question about their group's project. He catches up to me as I'm walking out. "Hey, so sorry about your-"

"Grandfather. It's cool, we weren't close,"

He shrugs. "Still,"

I laugh as we start walking toward dinner. "Thanks, I guess,"

"This probably isn't the time to do this," He starts. "But I've been trying to build the courage up to do it for a while and well, would you like to get dinner with me sometime? A date. Would like to get a date with-go on! Go on a date with me?"

I laugh, nodding. "Sure, that-that would be nice,"

He beams, tripping over absolutely nothing in his way, but recovering gracefully. "Gronderful! I mean Wreat! I mean-"

I pat his arm, comfortingly. "I know what you mean,"

* * *

"Psssst!" I jump at the sudden noise, catching me off guard leaving the bathroom. As Alicia and I had guessed, Grandmother had turned up to the funeral home face perfectly neutral from her wrinkle procedure and completely trashed and within minutes, she'd spilled wine all over my black funeral dress.

Thank Merlin for magic to remove all the stains from the dress you wear once a year to the most awkward of occasions

"Psssssssst!" The noise comes again, and I look over to my right to find two heads poking out of the coat rack. Erin and Colton's faces are peeking out from the coats, their hazel eyes wide.

I squat down to their level, taking care to smooth the back of my dress as I do. "What's going on, guys?"

"We're hiding," Erin says.

I stifle a laugh. "I see that. From what?"

"Scary lady," Colton reaches for my hand and tugs me onto my knees, easy enough to do balancing on my high heels.

"Who?" I ask immediately, but then it occurs to me. "Never mind. Grandmother's not that bad," That's a lie and it's so clear my siblings don't believe me. So much skepticism from such tiny faces. "Come on out, guys."

Erin comes out immediately, but Colton takes a little more convincing. When he comes out, he grabs my hand and they allow me to lead them back into the main room.

The room is filled with high class people, all of whom Grandmother has made a snarky comment under her breath about as soon as they'd passed us by to pay their respects. She remains by Dad and Alicia up by the open casket, but now that I'm free I make no moves to return up front.

Instead, I lead Erin and Colton to the back corner, where Parker is sitting and talking with Alex Davies, his best friend, who'd arrived with Aunt Katie and Uncle Roger. In fact, all of our parents' friends are here, occupying a corner of their own. Interesting group over in that corner.

Kiddos settled, I excuse myself to the bar Grandmother insisted on. Finally, a decision we agree upon. Glass of wine in hand and siblings in eyesight, I lean against the bar, so lost in my own little world for a moment, it takes a minute for the voice behind me to register. "There's no way little Carson is old enough to drink,"

"Uncle Justin!" I throw my free arm around him, absolutely beaming as I pull away.

Justin Thomas has been my dad's best friend since he signed to Puddlemere as a Beater immediately following his graduation from Ilvermorny, the same year Dad joined the team. They'd followed the same career path, a year in Reserves before being called up and helping to lead Puddlemere back to greatness. He and Dad had been roommates when they were young, and then again for a few more years, after Mom and Dad divorced, to help Dad with me. _Two Men and a Toddler_ , I believe, was the title of the _Quidditch Weekly_ article that was written about us when I was three.

His grin matches my own. "How've you been, kid?"

"I'm good," He's been like a second father to me for as long as I can remember. The stories of him and Dad from their earliest days of co-parenting are for the record books, hilarious tales of letting me wear whatever I wanted to formal events instead of fighting about it and teaching me all kinds of words I shouldn't know. Uncle Justin has since gotten married himself and had a couple kids, though notably neither of his daughters have ever shown up to Puddlemere's End of Season Awards in a tutu.

He orders his drink and we get to chatting. It's nice to catch up; Uncle Justin's got some stories about the girls, what he's been up to (when dad came on as GM, Uncle Justin had been his first hire as Director of Scouting), and he asks the right amount of questions about my own life to be interested, but not pry.

"And it's totally obvious that she likes _him too_ , except I can't get her to admit it!" I cry and Uncle Justin smiles at me. "And Louis, ugh, don't even get me started on Lou!"

"What did I do?" The voice comes from behind me and I whirl around to see Louis, James, and Meg.

"What are you doing here?" I ignore his question completely in favor of pulling Lou in for a hug, moving onto Meg, and finally throwing my arms around James.

"We came to see you," Meg says excitedly, which is incredibly nice of them, except...

"Damn it," I mutter, reaching into my bra to pull out the sheet of parchment, quickly scanning my eyes over it.

"Uhh," James says.

"What are you doing?" Louis asks.

"I can't remember if I put "Carson's friends crash from school" on my Bingo board and I know Dad did!" I cry.

"Bingo?" Louis repeats.

"You're playing Funeral Bingo and you didn't tell me!" Uncle Justin says at the same time.

"Of course we're playing Funeral Bingo; who do you think we are?"

"Why are you playing bingo at a funeral?" Meg hisses.

"Because we're competitive mofos who like to win things," I say obviously. Meg's jaw drops a little, but James and Louis start to grin. I knew those two would get it. "See I've got four in a row now. Grandmother makes sly comment about how Ratchel is better than Alicia without mentioning names; Grandmother makes sly comment about Ratchel and Alicia _with mentioning_ names; Grandmother spills wine all over someone, though it would have been nice not to be spilled on me," I add, for all of them to laugh. "And Grandmother compliments guest's dress only to make comment under her breath about how ugly she thinks it really is,"

"Are any of them _not_ about your grandmother?" James asks, scanning around the room to search for my Grandmother. She's up front, accepting a hug from one of their oldest "friends" and as soon as the woman moves onto Dad, she wipes her hands on the chair behind her, with a look of disgust. "Never mind,"

"A few more besides Carson's friends crash from school, but I wasn't counting on them," I pause. "All I need is Grandmother confuses Parker and Colton's names for a Bingo,"

Uncle Justin frowns at me. "That was a safe card you made today. I'm disappointed,"

"I play to win," I respond as Colton comes up to us, looking for a drink. He's happy to stay, talking with Uncle Justin and my friends, leaning against my side shyly when Meg smiles at him.

"Another wine," Grandmother's voice comes from behind Uncle Justin and just as I'm about to duck behind James, she spots me. "Lovely of you to come join us again, Carson,"

"I was entertaining my friends, Grandmother; they came all the way from school to support me,"

She looks unimpressed. "Charmed,"

"We are _very sorry_ for your loss Mrs. Wood," Meg says.

"If there's anything we can do today, please let us know," Lou adds.

"There is,"

Lou waits a moment, then asks. "What would you like us to do?" I wince, knowing what's coming.

"No. If _there is_ anything we can do today, please let us know." She shakes her head and mutters under her breath. "Stupid boy," I fight back a laugh and see James trying to do the same; his shoulder are shaking, but luckily for him, he's covered enough by the rest of the group not to be noticed. "Parker, remove your head from your sister's leg," My eyes light up and I see them all begin to laugh at me silently as Grandmother continues as she begins her walk back up front. "Honestly, you think any of this would have happened if _that one_ wasn't around?"

"Was that a two-fer?" Uncle Justin asks excitedly.

"Who cares?" I ask, waving my card around in the air. While it's true that "Grandmother referring to Alicia as this/that one" is a space in Funeral Bingo today, it's the least of my concerns. "I've got Bingo," I take care to mouth the word extra slow, so Dad and Alicia can see from across the room.

Dad's reaction is priceless. I can see him mutter "damn it" and turn around in his spot, angrily throwing his arms up in the air before they settle back at his side.

"It was worth it to come here just for that," Meg decides. "Because I'm never going to lose that moment of your grandmother correcting Lou,"

"Top 5 memories, no doubt," James agrees.

* * *

" _My_ son?" Uncle George repeats.

Meg nods laughing. " _Yes_. He had a test. He couldn't miss it."

Having left the actual funeral, the guests had all migrated to Grandmother's house for a catered (late) lunch. Grandmother's holding court in the Formal Living Room with all her friends (and frenemies) surrounding her, holding tiny plates of food and large glasses of wine.

Which leaves the Informal Living Room free for us. It had filled first with James, Lou, Meg, and myself, and then came Dad, Alicia, and their friends. Upon spotting his nephews, Uncle George had called us over, to first, give them shit about everything, and then ask about Freddy's location, surprised to find he had stayed behind when the three of them snuck out.

"A test," He says the word like someone might say garbage. "He stayed behind for a test! I'm so disappointed in him!"

His rant continues, but I slip out, heading for the bar and another glass of wine. The bartender looks unsurprised to see me, even less when I raise my glass to silently ask for a refill. "Could we just have the whole bottle, please?"

For a second, the bartender looks torn, like he's unsure how he feels about serving the maybe drunk girl this much alcohol. He must decide he doesn't care that much because he hands it over to James and turns away. "What are you doing?"

"Come on," He says. "You're dying in there. Grab your coat; there's Quidditch hoops out back. Let's play,"

"You had me at grab your coat," The thigh-length trench coat is not ideal for playing Quidditch, but I'm glad I brought it once we meet up at the door again. We pass the wine back and forth as I lead him to the broom shed and he laughs when I pull two out.

"I think these are worse than what Nana and Grandad have,"

"These are dad's first brooms!"

"So yours are at least worth money then?"

But it becomes clear that his first statement has at least some merit and unable to play at the level we're used to, we settle for mostly just passing the Quaffle back and forth.

"Your grandmother's interesting,"

"The other's worse,"

"How?" He cries.

"Ugh, she and Ratchel are so similar, it's not-"

He cuts me off. "That's third time today you've said that. Who is this Ratchel?"

I frown, trying to think back. "Oh! That's my mom,"

I can see the moment it clicks in his head and he immediately starts to laugh. His whole face lights up, eyes shining as he throws back his head. "That was great," He says, throwing the Quaffle to me. "I needed that,"

I return the smile. "I needed this," I send the Quaffle back his direction. "So, thanks,"

He shrugs. "I wanted a fun way to tell you I got the game tape and projector, so we're ready to roll on stats this week. It wasn't for you at all," He teases.

"Jerk!" I throw the Quaffle at his face and he catches it easily, laughing.

"Hey!" Parker calls from the ground and we both turn to see him, Colton, Erin, and Alex Davies waving their arms. "Can we play?"

"Sure," James calls back before I get a chance.

"You sure about this?" I ask him skeptically.

"Absolutely, it'll be a blast."

"Your funeral," I say, then laugh. "Too soon?"

"Just me, I think you're okay,"

"Go get some brooms, kiddos, we don't have all day,"

* * *

 **A/N:** I've missed the Woods-Oliver and Alicia that is; they're so fun to write, even if we only got a little bit of more of them this chapter. Back to school next chapter but hope you all enjoyed this and let me know what you thought!


	12. twelve

James fixing his glasses isn't enough to hide his eye roll. "Do you want me to do this or not?" I ask exasperatedly, leaning back in my seat, and almost taking out one of the poor house elves who'd just brought over the next round of margs for us.

"No, of course I do," He hastens to say. "I just-I didn't think you'd take it so _seriously_. You don't take anything this seriously!"

I raise my eyebrows and stare at him. "So you're mad I'm putting _too much work_ into this?"

He hesitates, glass halfway up to his mouth. "I take it back," He says, and I laugh.

Our weekly Taco Tuesday had been the natural choice to begin looking at the tape from the Slytherin game and luckily the back corner table has plenty of room and an empty wall to project the film onto. "Can you back up to Scotty's third goal?"

He obliges, pointing his wand to back the film up, and then fixes himself a taco as I scribble into my notebook, then focus back on the moving pictures, making occasional notes. "These numbers are unsustainable and we're going to regress,"

"You haven't even finished!"

"All three of our Hoogg Positives are absurdly and unattainably high!"

"They're obviously not unattainable if we've attained them,"

I glare at him. "We cannot _sustain_ this." I wave the notebook at him. "I haven't gotten to Beater stats or even looked at Coop yet, but our numbers are so high that I don't think it matters. Our STSR is going to be well above 100,"

"One game doesn't make or break STSR," He argues.

"That's the entire point of STSR! That the shot to save ratio should regress to 100% and if it's well above 100, _which we will be_ , that's all luck!"

"STSR doesn't matter anyway if you don't catch the Snitch," James returns. "So it's only about 50% of your luck, since catching that correlates to winning,"

"Possession and control correlate to winning," I argue. "If your Hoogg Positive would be even just _slightly_ above 50% and you control the bludgers, you wouldn't need to catch the Snitch to win,"

"That's your Quodpot bias,"

"You're a Quodpot bias!" I cry back childishly.

"That doesn't even make sense!"

"I panicked, and it was the first thing that came out!" James laughs. "Also, Quodpot statistics are very different, _thanks for noticing_!"

"How are they-"

"Don't fight me on this! I am the arithmetician, you are the strategist. Stay in your lane!"

"That's not really my brand," James says, signaling for more drinks for the two of us.

"Yeah, you know what, as soon as I said it, it didn't sound like either one of us. I don't like it, because I still wish you would, but I respect it,"

"Yeah, that sounds more like it," James snickers.

* * *

"It's getting worse!" Freddy whines.

"I actually felt like it was better," Louis disagrees. "I really feel like we hit our stride today," I nod along with him.

"She refused to work with us and made her own potion!" He cries.

"Your group is so much more interesting than mine!" James complains.

The four of us are waiting for Maeve to finish cleaning up her potion with her group and meet us outside the dungeon. Mine, Freddy, and Louis' work with Kylie has only gotten more contentious after Freddy's date with her, culminating today when she refused to even make the potion with us, resulting in the three of us making one and her making her own with Professor Dupont agreeing to grade both potions, likely just tired of the fighting.

It had been _oh so satisfying_ to come out on top.

"Interesting? It's terrible!" Freddy returns.

"I told you not to ask her out!"

He scowls in return. "Don't rub it in."

James, Louis and I all laugh hysterically. "It's like you don't even know her," James says.

"Shut up," Freddy answers, and we all laugh some more.

"Carson!" I turn away from James, Freddy, and Louis to see Tim, flagging me down, from further down the hallway.

"What's up?" I return casually as he approaches us, despite the weirdly frantic look in his eyes.

"I don't really know what to-anyway I'm just going to say it. Do you have any idea why Meg's been acting so weird recently?"

"Uhhhhh," I say, a particular instance in the Slytherin dormitory coming to mind.

"Is this a trick question?" James asks.

"Weirder than usual, I mean?" Tim adds.

"Uhhhhh," I repeat, thinking of how red Meg's face gets when she sees any of Tim's roommates, still, even a couple weeks after the incident.

"Like over the last few weeks?" Tim presses, hesitantly.

"Uhhhhh," Man am I super articulate today. "I can-think of-something, I guess, I mean if you really pressed me,"

"She told you, didn't she?"

"Well, yeah, girls tell each other everything,"

All four boys have matching looks of confusion on their faces. "Everything?" Freddy repeats finally.

I nod and as I look Tim up and down, thinking about what Meg's told me about him in the past, Maeve exits, lugging her huge backpack over her shoulders. "I'm here, I'm ready, I'm-oh!" Her cheeks turn bright red and she ducks her head to avoid eye contact, so I know she's thinking the same thing-all about Meg's most recent night spent in the Slytherin dorm and her...previous experiences with Tim that we'd talked about last girls' night

" _Everything,_ " I stress.

They all look suitably and appropriately scared, so I feel wildly accomplished. Two wins and it's not even noon.

* * *

"What do you mean, you don't get it?"

Scotty looks hesitantly at James before moving back over to me. "I-I don't get it?" He repeats tentatively. "I don't really understand what the other team's numbers have to do with my number?"

I glare over at James. I'd argued for a Statistics 101 lesson before implementing this into practice, but he'd insisted. "You understand your Harper-Wilde is just your combined shots-all three hoops, plus blocked shots, plus anything missed within the scoring zone." Scotty nods. "So you have your own individual Harper-Wilde, or HW for short, and we have a team HW, so it makes sense that the other team does too.

He nods. "Ok, cool,"

"Cool, great. So then Hoogg Positive, is all the Harper-Wilde events that happened in our favor and Hoogg Negative is the Harper-Wilde events that happened against us. We won't look at Hoogg Negative too much; that's really a marker of defensive play. But Hoogg Positive looks at your HW, that's your total shots, and divides that into _the sum_ of your total shots and the other team's total shots, to make a percentage and show how effective you were at driving play forward compared with how the other team played,"

He's nodding, finally getting it. "Oh, so like plus-minus,"

I death-stare at him. "Plus-minus is a garbage stat and I don't ever want to hear it mentioned on this Pitch again,"

"Wow, you are super intense today," Coop says, from where he's hovering by the hoops, waiting for the three of us to begin working.

"I haven't started on you yet," I say warningly.

"But you look great," He hastens to add. "Your ponytail's extra bouncy today; did you switch shampoos?"

"That nonsense isn't going to work on me, but yes, thank you for noticing," I fluff the back of my hair and he grins.

"Can we get back on topic here?" James interrupts.

"What is the topic?" Coop asks.

"Our Harper-Wilde-"

"No, it's our shot differential and STSR," I interrupt.

"Cool, I'm finally important," Coop grins.

"Don't get your hopes up," James says dryly.

"Our STSR is above 110% which is so absurdly high it's laughable which really just means likely next game, you'll be facing more shots to regress back to the mean,"

"Got it," Coops gives a thumbs up. "Wait, this isn't the strategy for next game, is it? Prepare for more shots?"

"No. This is individual and team improvements based off of what has happened and what likely will,"

"We'll follow with a specific strategy for Hufflepuff after we watch them play Ravenclaw," James adds.

"So what does this mean for us in the meantime then?" Scotty gestures between himself, James, and I. "We only practice passing drills for the next few weeks? I mean, I thought we had some good, quality shots in that-"

"I don't give a shit about your quality of shots!" Scotty looks over at James, fear evident in his eyes. "Quality of shots means nothing to me,"

"Why?" Coop interjects interestedly.

"Because possession wins games! One _quality shot_ , maybe it's the best shot you've ever taken, maybe it's freaking highlight reel worthy and you're hanging by one arm because you got knocked off by a bludger and managed to stay on just long enough to take that _one last shot_ will still only take up, what 30 seconds, max? Then the Quaffle goes right back to the other team. The more time we spend with the Quaffle, which we'll easily measure by total scoring chances or you know, _your Harper-Wilde_ , the less chances the other team has to score,"

Coop and Scotty are staring me. "She's ruining everything I ever thought about Quidditch," Coop says.

"Rough day all around," James responds.

I beam brightly at the three of them. "So now that I've ruined all of your lives and we're all good on the plan, I'm good to go work with Freddy and Fitz?"

James nods.

"Yes," Scotty adds desperately.

"Please leave," Coop practically shoves me away.

"Feeling the love, guys. Can't wait to do this again next practice!"

"What?" I chuckle to myself as I begin flying over to the other side of the pitch, where Freddy and Fitz have been working. "Hi boys!"

"Oh no," Freddy says. "That tone. Fly away!"

"Don't be so dramatic. I'm only going pick at like 50% of what you do,"

"Oh," He shrugs, leaning into the cushioning charm of his broom a little more. "I was expecting much worse,"

"James will tear apart the other 50,"

"Meh," Freddy shrugs. "I only listen to him half the time anyway so that'll only be like 25%,"

"I don't think that's how numbers work," Fitz says, as we exchange a look.

"No?"

"No," I laugh, bent over so far my head is resting on the broom handle. "Not at all,"

* * *

"Tuesday doesn't actually work for me," As Drew and I attempt to set up our date, I can see Maeve, Lizzie, and Vero unsubtly trying to listen in. Lizzie's practically dancing in her seat at our table in order to both see and hear the two of us in the back of the classroom. "I do this weekly thing-anyway, what about Wednesday?"

"I've got Charms Club,"

"There's a Charms Club?" I say, before I can stop myself and he nods, before we go back to settling schedules.

"Tell us, tell us, tell us," Lizzie demands, the second I sit down.

"You know he's right behind us, right?" But it must be her lucky day, since Professor O'Neal comes into class right after that, and upon starting class by collecting our homework, he then sets us off on our own to work on our projects and Drew and one of his roommates leave their table to go work with their project partner on the other side of the room.

"So?" Lizzie asks, the second he's out of ear shot.

"We're sneaking out to dinner on Thursday,"

"Yay!" She and Vero clap excitedly. "Maeve, clap for Carson,"

"I'm just a little nervous about the sneaking out part!"

"Oh, Lou's on duty that night. Even if we get caught, it'll be fine,"

She frowns further. "He can't just be giving special treatment out!"

"Is it better or worse if I tell you I bribed him not to give me detention?"

She huffs out a laugh. "I don't know. Just tell me about your date,"

"It's not anything too much. We're just going up to Hogsmeade and we're going to grab dinner and see how things go," I shrug. "Pretty casual,"

"Oh good," Vero says. "So it won't be too awkward when it doesn't go well,"

My jaw drops. "It's not going to be awkward! It's not awkward with JJ,"

"It's _incredibly_ awkward with JJ!" Maeve says. "James had to back out of the whiskey start up with Dave!"

"Well they shouldn't have gone into business together in the first place! That's just good business sense! You shouldn't invest with someone you hated 10 hours ago!" I cry.

"Also, who says it's not going to go well?" Lizzie says optimistically. "Maybe it'll be the best date she's ever had,"

"Your bright optimism is one of my favorite things about you," I tell her. "But Merlin, tone it down a little,"

* * *

"Hey," Running late, I jump off the last few steps to meet Drew, who's waiting patiently by the door.

"Hi-lo," He cringes. "I mean, Hi,"

I can feel the smile freeze on my face. The other day in class while trying to organize this, there'd been only the slight hint of this awkwardness and I'd hoped that it had just been leftover nerves from actually asking me out. "Should we go?"

He nods and we hide behind a pillar until we're sure the coast is clear and then sneak out the front doors to begin our walk toward the village.

Our completely silent walk toward the village.

We arrive at the restaurant (in silence), sit down at our table ( _in silence_ ) and peruse through the menu (STILL IN SILENCE) before I finally can't stand it.

"So are classes going well?"

"Mmhm," He nods.

Under the table, I squeeze my hand into a fist to prevent from crying out in frustration and instead paste another fake smile on my face and go a different direction. "What's your family like?"

"Fine," One word, making progress.

Grasping at anything, I scan around the restaurant, looking past other couples, different meals, and the waiter passing us by before landing on the red wall on the opposite side of the room and saying the first thing that comes to mind. "Do you like tomatoes?"

He chuckles, sort of; it's more like a loud release of air that sounds vaguely like a laugh.

I fight back a groan when he still doesn't say anything. "What do you like to do?" When he still doesn't respond, I go on. "Any activities or hobbies? Like I like Quidditch, obviously, and I like to travel, I mean I moved a lot when I was little and I like to explore around and see new places and-"

"Traveling's not really a hobby," Drew finally speaks, except my jaw drops at his statement.

"Excuse me?"

"Well, there's not really any skill involved in it,"

"Ummm," I say, and then abruptly make the decision to leave and stand up.

"No, wait," Drew pleads. "Please stay. I'm sorry, I just-" He trails off and I wait patiently for a moment before sitting down and responding.

"I don't sit in awkward silence well,"

"I don't talk to pretty girls well," Drew returns, beginning talking before I even finish.

In response, I flip all my hair over my face and in the deepest voice I can manage, I ask, "Better?"

Later, when I'm recounting this whole experience to Maeve, Louis, and James in Herbology, it's that moment that I identify as the one where I knew things wouldn't work out between us.

Maeve's rubbing her hands all over her face, Lou's face is completely flat as he stares, and James looks like he's fighting back a laugh. "That moment? Really? What did he do?"

"He just said no! In this super serious tone, like he totally missed the joke," That's it, James loses it, doubling over as he starts laughing.

"What were you expecting him to do?"

"I don't know, literally anything but that!" And, that's Lou laughing, joining his cousin, and I throw my hand over in their direction. "See! That's what I was expecting. That's a normal reaction. That's what any of them would have done!"

"We're laughing at you, not with you," Lou says.

"Maeve, Louis is being mean to me!" I whine.

"Louis, she just had a bad date; be nice!" She scolds. His jaw drops as I stick my tongue out at him, sending James into another fit of laughter.

"Thanks, Maeve," I beam at her.

"So I take it this means, you are not going out with him again?" She asks.

I shake my head and she and Louis groan. "What was that for?"

"We lost money to Vero," Lou responds. "Who said you wouldn't make it past one date. Why did we bet that you would? You've haven't made it past one date all year,"

"I have-" I cut myself off. "JJ, that Slytherin Sixth Year Al introduced me to that I made out with on Halloween, Mike whatshisname, and-oh! Yeah, this is bad, even for me,"

"It's our fault, we shouldn't have had so much faith in you," Lou says. "Maeve's stupid Hufflepuff loyalty."

James and I exchange a look, fighting back laughter, because we've both definitely heard him discuss how he feels about "Maeve's stupid Hufflepuff loyalty" before and it's sounded a little...different. "Well, think on the bright side. Now you don't have to pretend to like him since he won't be invited to Friendsgiving,"

Three blank states. "What now?" James asks.

"Friendsgiving? The mandatory holiday dinner I'll be throwing for all of us,"

"Which holiday is this?" Lou asks, looking at me like I'm crazy.

"Oh! Friendsgiving, is the play off Thanksgiving that you celebrate with your friends, so you can actually enjoy the holiday instead of it just being a disaster day that you spend with your family where everything goes wrong, you all drink too much, and your drunk aunt sets the oven on fire,"

"I-I still don' think that explained it," James says hesitantly.

"So Thanksgiving is an American holiday where we celebrate the day that our native ancestors helped the original No-Maj settlers find food and survive before they repaid us by hunting us down and forcing us into hiding,"

"This day sounds really dark," Maeve adds unsurely.

"That stuff all happened way later. We just eat a lot food to celebrate the first meal and basically be gluttonous," I nod excitedly. None of them seem to share my excitement for the greatest food day of the year. "Anyway, I thought it would be fun to host a Friendsgiving with you all since I'll miss the holiday,"

"Mmmmm," Louis hems.

"Ehhh," James adds.

"That sounds wonderful!" Maeve says happily.

"You don't have to do anything except show up and eat," I tell the boys.

"Actually, that sounds great," James decides.

"Yeah, I think I'm free after all," Lou agrees.

Maeve and I exchange a look. "Boys," She shakes her head.

"See, this is why I can't get past one date!"

* * *

 **A/N:** Quidditch, stats, sass, and an awkward date; it was like Carson all wrapped up in one chapter. Thanks for reading (and sticking with me through all those stats)!

 _Coming Up Soon: Celebrating America's favorite holiday C-Dub style, James and Carson watch a Quidditch match, Carson lacks emotional attachment but that's not really news_


	13. thirteen

"I don't know if I'm going to come to Friendsgiving," I stop in my tracks, so stunned I drop my broom and it clatters to the ground.

Freddy turns at the noise. "Come on, we're going to be late," A quick glance at my watch tells me he's right, and since I don't think any excuse we come up with will put us into James' good graces for being late to Quidditch practice, I pick up my broom and begin walking.

"Why not?"

"I don't-come on, Carson," He says. "You know why,"

I glance furtively around me, making sure no one we know is nearby. "I also know that if this were me or Roxy or anyone else we know in a similar situation you'd be telling us that we can't let the boy stop us from living our lives,"

He scowls at me. "I hate that you're using fake words I would absolutely say against me,"

I link my free arm into his. "I mean, I'm not going to force you to come. But it's just going to be all of us and the Puff girls, so it'll be low key, and the food will be good. You guys have all been so awesome and you've made this such an easy transition for me, like I have so many friends now, and I just wanted to celebrate the holiday with everyone,"

He's frowning when I look up at him. "I forgot,"

"Forgot what?"

"That you weren't always here with us." He says guiltily, and I can't help but laugh. "You've just fit in so well! I barely even remember the days when the Puff girls weren't around, let alone when you weren't here,"

"Aww. Worked my way into your lives _and_ hearts. Can't say no to Friendsgiving now!"

"Damn it," He swears, just as we step into range of James and the rest of the team (late, we are definitely late, or at least late by James' definition, meaning we aren't 5 minutes early). "Fine, you've guilted me into it,"

James' hazel eyes narrow as he watches us. "Is something wrong?"

"No," We chorus.

It becomes clear, though, that something _is wrong_ with Freddy, and as he goes easier and easier on me in practice, James grows angrier and angrier until they finally come to blows, shouting at each other the way relatives only can.

"Are they going to be okay?" Maddy asks worriedly, stopping next to me.

"They'll be fine," I answer, unconcerned.

She and Scotty both look unconvinced and even Fitz looks hesitant as he responds, "I've never seen them yell _like this_ before,"

For that, I don't have an answer, so I shrug and make the executive decision to dismiss them all when it looks like James and Freddy aren't finishing anytime soon (somehow, the fight that began because Freddy wasn't trying hard enough has morphed into James not buying a good Christmas present last year? Damn, I missed some key points!)

Instead of listening to the two of them, I fly down with the rest of the team and lie down on the pitch, eyes tracing constellations in the sky above me. It could be minutes or maybe closer to an hour, but eventually, I feel the warmth of both of their bodies lie on either side of me. "Aired all your grievances?"

"I suppose," James says hoarsely, missing my reference entirely and disappointing me immensely.

"No, I have not!" Freddy announces, sitting up. "You've guilt-tripped me into coming into your fake holiday but you will not get out of talking about your lack of friends,"

"This is not airing your grievances! Airing your grievances is when you sit around and tell someone how they've disappointed you. For example, _it disappoints me_ that James still thinks that possession of the Quaffle doesn't matter,"

"Hey!" He protests, as I continue, "And that's not Friendsgiving, that's Festivus. It's the holiday of divorced children everywhere!"

"Fine!" Freddy cries. "Then _I'm disappointed_ that you won't discuss your previous friends with us. Better?"

"Ehhh. 7 for execution, but content still gets a 4,"

He looks up at the sky, as if begging for someone to save him. "Fucking-"

Still lying on the grass, James and I are laughing. "Come on, Freddy, what did you want to talk about?" James asks.

Freddy looks like he's about to scream, only calmed down when I reach my hand out to him. "Look, we can talk about whatever you want to talk about, but I don't think this is going to be the terrible story you're thinking it is. I moved a lot when I was little, between Dad and all of Mom's husbands, and I didn't even start Ilvermorny at first! I went to this hippie school in California for the first semester, and then Mom got divorced so we moved and I switched to Ilvermorny. Dad was _livid_ ; they had to re-do the divorce agreement so I wouldn't keep switching, it was a whole thing,"

Freddy looks slightly more mollified, even as I roll my eyes, and James seems interested, both looking eager for me to continue. "I didn't really mean I didn't have friends then," That's almost a smile on Freddy's face; alright, now we're getting somewhere. "I was really talking about what how easy it was to move here. It's tough to move around so much, getting settled in only to have to _move again_ , but you guys have been really great,"

"You said this before," Freddy says teasingly.

"What more do you want from me?" I complain. "You know I avoid feelings with wit and sarcasm,"

"That's plenty for today," James says firmly, nudging my elbow with his own. " _He's just being pushy,"_ He stresses.

Freddy lies back down. "Yeah, I suppose that was plenty and I'll come to Friendsgiving,"

I beam in response, and as I lie shoulder to shoulder with the two best friends I've possibly ever had, watching the stars and laughing as we move on to talk about nothing in particular, it strikes me how lucky I am to be here.

It took hella long to get here, but it's good to finally be comfortable.

* * *

"You know how you always wonder what your dog is thinking? Do you think your dog ever wonders what you're thinking?" I put my silverware down and stare across the table at Liam.

Around me, the rest of our friends are doing the same. Dan's fork is stopped mid-air, James has ceased chewing, and Lou puts down the jug of pumpkin juice in favor of staring at Liam instead. "What?" Liam asks, like he hasn't just said what he did.

Lou looks at me from across the table. "Do you want to take it?"

I think for a moment. "No, I think I'll be _too_ mean,"

He scoffs. "That's hardly stopped you before!"

I pause. "Fair point."

"Carson, I'm not coming to Friendsgiving!" Before Lou and I can decide who can make what's sure to be a scathing comment about Liam's common sense, Meg plops down at the table across from me, looking as frazzled as I've ever seen her.

Unfortunately, my rage is blinding the sight of everything else around me to care about that.

"Oh no," James mutters under his breath.

"What do you mean you're not coming?" I repeat slowly, venom dripping with every word.

"I'm just super busy with exams coming up in a few weeks."

"No, no, no," I hear James mutter again.

"I just don't think I can make it!"

"Meg," He groans quietly.

"Fuck all of you!" I stand up, seething. "You are _all_ going to come to Friendsgiving, we are going to eat a good meal, and you are going to like it, damn it!"

As I storm out of the Great Hall, I hear Meg ask bewilderedly, "what was _that_ about?" for Freddy to answer. "You do _not_ want to know,"

All in all, shaping up to be a successful holiday.

* * *

"What are you wearing?" I whip around at Maeve's words of disgust and my jaw drops at the sight of James, Freddy, and Dan in matching suits with Thanksgiving themed patterns-James' is blue with turkeys, Freddy's red with cornucopias, and Dan's green with pilgrim hats.

"Is this not a dress up holiday?" Dan asks.

"Those are the ugliest things I've ever seen," I respond, instead of giving him a straight up "no."

They all shrug and move further into the Room of Requirement, no care that their outfits are the most absurd things in the world, and I bury my face in the back of Maeve's shoulder. "Why are we friends with them?"

"This a day to celebrate friendships," She reminds me, patiently. "We love everyone here,"

The rest of our friends begin to file in, dressed normally in nice jeans and tops, but still James, Freddy, and Dan go on owning their looks.

Which, I mean, more power to them, I guess.

"Your hair!" I squeal, reaching out to touch Lizzie's brand new blue ombre locks. "It's so cute!"

"Thank you!" She cries. "I'm being ostracized!"

"Why?"

"The Ravenclaw game!"

"Oh," I nod. "Yeah, I can see that,"

" _Seriously_?"

"I mean, as the loyal House, you of all people should know how important it is to remain true to your people,"

"It's just a stupid game!"

I gasp! "You take that back!"

"C-Dub!" Freddy calls. "When's dinner?"

"I'm busy!" I snap

"Very soon," Maeve responds, much more nicely and Freddy looks temporarily pacified as he goes back to talking with Lou and Dan, pausing only to stick his tongue out at me.

"What was that about?" Miracle of miracles, Meg has arrived.

"You're here!" I cry, as she allows herself to be pulled into a hug by Maeve.

"You didn't really give me much of an option," She teases, but it lacks its usual spitfire, and as she moves from Maeve to Lizzie, it seems like she looks pale and weary.

"When's the last time we were all together? Everyone's been so busy!"

"Alright," She admits. "Fair point,"

"Come on," Vero grabs her hand. "We'll get you a drink and we'll catch up,"

Meg shakes her head. "I just want to eat. I've been working on our _stupid_ Muggle Studies project and I'm so fed up with these people; I have such a headache right now! I hate group projects!"

The Puff girls and I exchange looks. "Rough," I say eventually.

"Shut up," Meg shoves my shoulder. "You don't know my pain. You have the best group ever,"

I beam over at them to find three grins returned at me. "Yeah, I do,"

"C-Dub!" Lou, this time. "Dinner?"

Before I can open my mouth, Maeve calls back, "Have some patience!" and the room goes silent because well, that was pretty much her yelling.

"Actually, that's the House Elf who's bringing dinner up," I mutter to her, pointing over to where Mipsy is standing in the corner.

"I was doing a thing!"

"I know, babe, next time,"

And then, we're all standing awkwardly around the table, behind our chairs, staring between the food and each other. "Alright, well I'll start, I guess," Freddy says. "This year, I'm thankful for-"

"What are you doing?" I interrupt.

"Isn't this what you do?" He asks. "I mean, I've only ever seen American Thanksgiving on TV, but they always stand around like this and tell everyone what they're thankful for,"

"No, remember, you're supposed to say how everyone's disappointed you," James supplies.

"Oh! Right! This year I'm disappointed in Lou for not informing me when Mother's Day was, like he usually does so I did not have sufficient time to buy a gift,"

"You're 17!" Lou shouts back.

"I'm disappointed in all of Ravenclaw and group projects," Meg ignores him.

"Lizzie's blue hair," Vero adds pointedly.

"It looks cute!" Lizzie cries.

"Guys, this isn't a thing either!" I interrupt, before we can go cutthroat and full brawl. "You're combining two fake holidays into one. Just-sit down and eat, everybody, before I get sick of you all,"

"Some Friendsgiving," James says, passing me the potatoes from the seat to my right. "Threatening the entire table,"

"Don't be silly! That's the spirit of the holiday!"

* * *

"You're sure you don't need help?" Maeve worries, biting her lip.

I nod. "James, Freddy, and Lou are here still. We've got it," I hug her one last time before shoving her out the door with Vero and Lizzie and turning back to the boys. "This won't take too long, right?"

"Are you good a cleaning spells?" Lou asks.

"Ehh," I shake my hand back and forth.

"Four ehhhs should make one decent," James claims, and he's not entirely wrong because between the four of us, we get it done fairly quickly, settling back into the chairs with some of the remaining wine.

"The was fun," Freddy admits.

"Yeah?" I beam, looking over at him.

He nods. "I had more fun than I thought."

"Pencil it in for next year, because we're going just as big and we won't have House Elves so it'll be Potluck style!"

Freddy shrugs. "I'll get my mom to make something; it'll be fine,"

When I look over at James, he's shaking his head and I can't help but laugh,

"If he even remembers," Lou says. "You know, since I won't tell him it's happening,"

Freddy's jaw drops as James and I burst into laughter and he rants about what a terrible cousin Louis is. "Dropped out of the Top 5 for sure!" Lou flips him off.

I fight back a smile as I curb my laughter. "Well in the spirit of Real Thanksgiving, I'm very thankful for all of you. My Top 5 of all time,"

"So you _do_ say what your thankful for!" Freddy cries.

I pull a face. "My grandmother made all of us go around and say what each one of us was thankful for before we could start eating when I used to go there. First of all, there were like 50 of us, every year. So if you didn't go in like the first 10 people, you were really like scrounging around for new material about what to be thankful that someone else didn't already say. Second, by the time we started eating, the food was cold! It had to be reheated!"

They're laughing. "Did you have to like have someone warm the whole table up?"

I glare. "No. My mom doesn't believe in a lot of things, she's not like a super passionate person, but uber-health food is one of the few things she does believe in so she wouldn't allow anyone to heat hers _or mine_ up because she was afraid it was diseased then, you know like those organic hippie people won't do anything food related with their wands? I had to like have someone sneak it under the table. That's how we almost started a fire one year,"

"You don't talk about your mom a lot," James says, as Freddy and Lou laugh.

I shrug. "I mean, you know we don't really get along,"

He nods. "Yeah, I was just curious what she was like,"

"She's-" I swirl my finger around the lip of my glass. "a lot." I settle on. "She never-I mean at the beginning, neither one of them really-they just-they didn't really know how to be parents." I say, choosing my words carefully. "Both of them, not like, Dad was over here muddling through things and Mom was there rocking it out. She once left me alone for 3 hours with the dog as a babysitter." Freddy and James exchange a skeptical look before returning their gaze back to me. "They divorced when I was three months old so they never really figured out a co-parenting strategy. It was a 'these are mom's rules and these are dad's' kind of thing. But Dad-he figured the dad thing out. I mean, I remember being little and having ice cream for dinner sometimes because he didn't have anything else, but he always had the basics down. Mom never really got the hang of being a mom,"

Finger still circling the rim of my glass, I'm surprised when James' hand reaches out to stop it. "I can't believe you got to eat ice cream for dinner,"

"Out of the carton." I grin at his perfect response. "Because Dad and Uncle Justin never wanted to wash dishes,"

"What a life," Lou agrees, as the three of them exchange a look that I'm sure means we aren't finished talking about this.

"Living the dream," I nod, perfectly okay if it's never mentioned again.

* * *

"Pass me the..." Vero mutters and I glance down the line to see Maeve is distracted by Louis before I hand her the flask we've been passing between us all game. She swigs back a long sip and then offers it to me; only this time, I have to hesitantly glance to my left to see James is focused on watching Hufflepuff's Chasers before I can take my own drink.

"Ahem," Freddy clears his throat loudly, in the row behind with Dan and Liam. He's got his eyebrows raised and his hand held out when I turn to look and I pass it up to him.

Thank Merlin for the Never-Empty Flask.

"What's wrong with you?" Louis asks, calling him out.

Freddy has the sense to his the flask between his legs when Maeve turns, since drinking at a school sponsored event is definitely worth a long lecture and her fourth (maybe even third) scariest death glare, not to mention confiscation of the booze. "Had a tickle,"

I fight the urge to smack my hand against my forehead and instead bite my lip to hold back a laugh, as Lou's eyes narrow and he repeats, "A tickle?"

"Yep. A tickle. You know? A tickle in your throat?"

It's enough to satisfy Maeve, who turns back to the Quidditch match and Lizzie, who's raving about one of Ravenclaw's Beaters, who she now has a crush on apparently.

Louis, however, just mimes drinking with his hand and a questioning look in his eyes. Freddy sighs and nods, pulling the flask out of his legs and holding it out to pour in Lou's mouth just as he leans back.

Maeve doesn't even know it happened. This may be the most impressive thing they've done all year!

"Are you paying attention?" James asks.

"Yes!" I sit up tall, pulling my head forward. "But it's so cold!"

He glares over at me for a minute, then pulls the jacket he's wearing off to give to me. "Will you pay attention now?"

"Yep!" I chirp, snuggling into the jacket's warmth.

"Maddy's a better Seeker than their's, I think," He muses. "But Preston'll have the advantage of experience,"

"You know that I care minimally about what constitutes a better Seeker. I mean, like statistically speaking,"

"Their Chasers are good, but we're better,"

"Well I haven't done the math on that yet,"

He glares at me. "Don't,"

"Do the math?"

"Be so contradictory,"

"It's like my middle name! Carson Grace Contradictory Wood,"

"I just wish you wouldn't focus on the numbers so much and would focus on how people actually play,"

My jaw drops. "I am not going to have this argument with you! Grit and character and all those intangibles the old school guys talk about are nonsense and do not have anything to do with winning games!"

He rolls his eyes, but he's fighting a smile. "So stubborn!"

"Stubbornness is like an inherently Gryffindor trait! Look at _everyone you're related to_!"

He opens his mouth like he's going to argue, but then, maybe realizing my point, closes it, pausing a moment before obviously going another direction. "I maintain my position that there are some intangibles that play a role but as I have already admitted, the stats are helpful and can play a role. Now can we get back to this game?"

I shrug. "Sure. I know what I my plan's going to be, so it's just numbers now,"

"You-what?"

"You haven't been watching the Keeper as much as I have, but he can't block his left hoop for shit. His save percentage there so far is only like 13% compared to like 77ish in the center and about 85 in the right. We bombard the left hoop until he freaks and covers that one more and leaves the center and right more open," As he stares at me, I finish, "I mean, it needs some fine tuning,"

He nods. "Yeah, but it's a good start,"

I beam. "Great! Who's got the flask?"

"Flask?" James perks up. "How long has this been going on?"

"All game," I reach behind me to grab it. "Honey, catch up,"

He certainly takes that literally when he starts to chug and gets us caught by Maeve.

Oops.

* * *

 **A/N:** Sidenote, I do not own Seinfeld, which is mentioned in this chapter.

 _Coming Up Soon: The girls take a trip_


	14. fourteen

The last Friday of classes this term dawns with uncharacteristic sunshine and I greet the day with a similarly uncharacteristic smile, thrilled to push the first snow off for yet another day and happy as can be that classes are coming to an end.

That same cheerful attitude can not be found on my best friend, who looks utterly miserable as she rolls over in bed. "Go on without me,"

I glance at her skeptically. "Are you sure?"

Meg nods. "I'll just be a little late. Save me a donut!"

As requested, I do, wrestling said donut away from James ("She's not even here!" He'd cried. "She'll never even know if there were any!"), only for Meg not to show to breakfast at all.

Or Charms.

Or any of our classes.

Once Transfiguration hits before lunch, the rest of our friends finally look worried. Maeve's reached the point of biting her lip across the room and berating Louis quietly under her breath while I spend the lesson creating ever more ridiculous situations about what could have happened and sharing them to James, until he grows so fed up he pulls the world's most tattered piece of parchment out of his bag.

"Stop ignoring me! This is our best friend!"

He continues to ignore me and points his wand at the parchment. " _I solemnly swear that I am up to no good_ ,"

And I watch in amazement as dark lines grow and branch over the page until a full map of Hogwarts is formed. "What is that?"

"I think you're smarter than that," James responds, scanning the page on his lap.

"Come on," I say plainly. "It moves,"

I point to the room closest to me (the Potions dungeon) where a dot labelled Claude Dupont is moving in perfect horizontal lines, as if the man himself is moving through the desks in the classroom.

"It's real time," James answers. "See, there we are," He points, and sure enough, there's Carson Wood and James Potter huddled close together in a corner in the Transfiguration classroom.

"This is awesome!" I exclaim, a little too loudly, immediately looking to see if we're discovered and turning back when it's clear.

"Meg is...in bed?"

" _Still_?"

He sighs. "Alright, I didn't want to admit this because I hate the thought of him being right, but I think it's time someone said it. Tim's right; there's something going on with her,"

"I mean, I agree, but I've been watching her for weeks since before Friendsgiving and other than her acting like a fucking weirdo, I can't say what in particular is wrong!"

James groans. "I don't think we should just let it go without saying anything though,"

"Again, _I agree_ , but-"

"Don't be petulant," He says.

I glare for a moment before sighing. "Fine. If she's not at lunch today, then I'll go up to our room and talk to her right after,"

James shoots me a thumbs up. "Better you than me,"

"Depending on what she wants to talk about, maybe not,"

When Meg does not show to lunch, we exchange a concerned glance, and I finish my meal quickly, wrapping her up a sandwich and making my way back up to the Tower. It's unlike Meg to skip class for no reason and it's really unlike her to miss two meals.

Arrive late, absolutely; miss entirely, there's cause for concern.

The lights are off when I arrive, with the blinds still shut. My best friend is still a lump in her bed as I creak the door open. "Meg?" There's no answer, so I try again. "Meg, come on. It's already lunch time. I brought you a sandwich!"

"Go away, please," She says.

Never one for doing what I'm told, I move closer. "Meggie," I sit down on the edge of her bed. "Talk to me; what's going on." Her response is muffled as she speaks into the pillow. "One more time for those of us without bat hearing,"

She turns her head toward me; I fight back a laugh at the look of her hair strewn across her face. "I think I'm pregnant,"

"Holy shit!"

"Carson!" She whines.

"Sorry," I hasten. "I didn't mean-I'm just sorry. Are you sure?" She shakes her head. "Well have you taken a test?" Another head shake. "Meggie,"

"I can't!" She whines again. "I just-I just can't, Carson. What if I am?" She shakes her head again. "I just can't right now. Not yet," At a loss of what to do, I stand and pace in front of her. "Carson, what am I going to do?"

I shrug, shrinking back in the uncomfortable silence between us, until finally, "Alright, get up, pack a bag,"

"What?"

"We're packing a bag, getting the Puff girls, and leaving for the weekend; you need to clear your head. We're going to ride around in the car and scream along to Taylor Swift until you're ready to take that damn test and no one will bother us when you finally are,"

She blinks her wide eyes at me twice before she finally climbs out of bed with more enthusiasm than she's shown in days. "You're a genius.

* * *

After dropping our stuff off at the Country Home and assuring the Puff girls that my parents would not be anywhere near the house this weekend, securing a car is the next order of business.

"Wait, you invited us here to drive around and you don't _have one_?" Maeve looks panicked.

"Ugh, would you stop being such a Head Girl?" Vero rolls her eyes. "We aren't even in school,"

Maeve is still skeptical as I lead them all into a large garage, right over to an SUV. I use my wand to unlock it and they each take a seat, waiting as I sit in the driver's seat.

"Do you even know how to drive?"

"Yes, Lizzie," I huff, feeling under the dashboard for what I'm looking for. My fingers find it and I reach for my wand, muttering the spell and the car comes the life.

Vero cracks up. "Where did you learn to hotwire a car?"

"What?" Maeve cries.

"Oh relax," Meg says, turning back from the passenger's seat. "Nobody's here; they'll never know."

"I used to be such a rebel," I say, at the same time, answering Vero. "Man, Maeve, you never would have cut it with me in America,"

"I barely cut it with you here!"

I giggle, tossing my phone over to Meg. "Get us going, Meggie; we're hitting the road,"

Hours of Taylor Swift later (the cure all to any shitty boyfriend, potential pregnancy, or bad breakup), Meg's spirits have lifted quite a bit and I'm not even the one who brings up the idea of a test again.

"Do you think it's time, Meggie?" Maeve asks quietly, from the backseat. She's in the middle, so she leans forward and rests her head on Meg's shoulder and we can both hear Meg's sharp intake of breath, even over Lizzie and Vero screaming along to "Red." "It's not going to get any better pushing it off,"

"I'm scared," Meg says quietly.

"But isn't it better to know?" I look over at her.

She bites her lip. "But what if I am? What do I do?"

I shrug. "You'll do what you have to, Meg,"

She bites her lip, looking contemplative at my words. "One more hour of T-Swift?"

"One more hour," I agree.

"Wrong side of the road!" Maeve shrieks, pointing ahead to where we're drifting.

"Shit!" I swerve back. "God damn, you Brits! Why do you do things so backwards?"

"Seriously, Carson?" Maeve's jaw drops. "Go fuck yourself,"

I beam at her in the rearview mirror. "Maeve, that's the first curse word I've ever heard you say! I'm so proud!"

She only grumbles back in response.

* * *

"RAIN CAME POURING DOWN WHEN I WAS DROWNING THAT'S WHEN I COULD FINALLY BREATHE AND BY MORNING, GONE WAS ANY TRACE OF YOU THAT'S WHEN I COULD FINALLY BREATHE," Meg guzzles down another sip of champagne, twirling around the yard as she does, so she loses another part of her bottle to spillage.

Vero and I exchange a look. The champagne had been popped as soon as the test was revealed as negative; my bathroom upstairs was a mess. Alicia was going to kill me if we didn't clean up before we left. The five of us hadn't stopped drinking since, no one happier than Meg, who's been dancing intermittently to whatever T-Swift song tickles her fancy-more and more the drunker she gets.

The rest of us are sitting on the grass. Maeve had been smart enough to cast Warming Charms all around us, so despite the cold temperatures, we're all plenty comfortable in our leggings and sweatshirts.

We're set, as long as we don't dip into Dad's good champagne down in the wine cellar.

"I gotta call him," Meg says suddenly, stopping whatever weird dance move she's doing, her words definitely a bit slurred. "Right now. Where's my phone?"

"Uh no," Vero says. "That is literally the worst idea you've had all night, including when we stopped at the diner and you wanted to get fish tacos,"

"Fish tacos are delicious!" Meg cries.

"You don't get fish tacos from a diner!" Lizzie cries back. She tips over from her excitement. God, she's such a lightweight.

"No, I have to call Tim now!" Meg says. "I have to break up with him,"

"What?" Maeve says. "Meg, seriously? I know you're a little freaked out, but isn't this a little bit of an overreaction?"

"She's trashed," I say. "She's not serious,"

"I am serious! Yeah, I'm freaked out but I spent the last few weeks thinking I was having a baby and I'd have to spend the rest of my life with him! And then I realized, I _don't want_ to spend the rest of my life with him! I can't picture us married! I can't! I have to call him!"

She spots her phone on the table at the same time that I do and we both lunge for it. The fight that ensues is worth it when I end up with the phone, because I know that even if this is something she actually does want, she'll regret doing it this way in the morning.

Even if she does elbow me in the eye in the process.

I'm rubbing said eye when I pull away victorious and Meg's pouting on the ground like a child. "Meggie, come on, you can talk to him tomorrow if you still want to break up with him. But you've been together for two years. You owe him more than a drunken phone call at 2am,"

She hugs her knees into her chest and rests her chin on them. "I don't want to hurt him,"

"Well babe, you're going to," Vero says gently. "But it doesn't make you a bad person,"

"My parents divorced when I was 3 months old," I offer. "They would have made each other miserable. Vero's right; you're not a bad person for caring about your own happiness,"

"How the hell did you get so wise?" Vero pops a new bottle. "You're supposed to be a hot mess like me,"

I shrug. Meg's still looking morose, so I pop two more bottles and pull her up. "Come on, back to dancing,"

She beams and I join in with her, singing and twirling this time. "AND BY MORNING GONE WAS ANY TRACE OF YOU I THINK I AM FINALLY CLEAN,"

* * *

Exhausted and slightly hungover, I contemplate just stopping at the bottom of this flight of stairs (the last flight of stairs, Carson, come on, you've almost made it), and hoping for the best and that someone who likes me comes along to help me up to Gryffindor Tower. I'd long ago left the Puff girls at the entrance to the Hufflepuff dorm, looking worse for wear, and prior to that, the four of us had dropped Meg off at the dark dungeon that those poor Slytherins lived in, leaving her with words of support and encouragement.

It'd been a long weekend of soul searching and advice-giving, and she said she still wasn't sure what she was going to do when she finally faced Tim, but she was doing it now before she talked herself out of it.

So with a sigh, knowing that she's suffering much worse than I am (and may be the first person to find me at the bottom this staircase; it's getting close to curfew), I make my way up and offer the Fat Lady the password.

"What the hell happened to you?" James cries as I approach him, Freddy, and Louis.

"What?" Then, I remember the black eye, I'd woken up with yesterday morning courtesy Meg's bony elbow. "Oh, it's nothing. Don't worry about it,"

That doesn't settle him. In fact, they all still look worried, peering around me to look for something; Freddy going so far as to stand up to glance over my head. "Where's Meg?" He asks, finally, flopping back down into his seat and looking utterly dejected.

"Oh," I pause. "She-she's..."

But I don't have to come up with an excuse for where Meg could be, because the portrait hole is opening and she's rushing inside with tears running down her face as she pushes her way through two Second Years to throw herself onto the couch next to me and bury her face into my leg.

"Seriously, _what the hell happened_ this weekend?" James asks.

She babbles something through her tears into my leg and I move my hand into her hair. "Oh, honey,"

"Did you get any of that?" Louis whispers to Fred.

"Something about strawberries?" Freddy whispers back hesitantly.

"James I need you to use your magic paper to go to the kitchens, please,"

"Magic paper!" He cries, outraged. "Respect the Map for what it is!"

"Meg needs our help; there's no time to argue about whatever that thing is!"

"Only our second most important family heirloom!"

"Well, Meg just told Tim she wants to take a break, so use _your second most important family heirloom_ to _go to the kitchens_ for me, damn it!"

They all gasp and it's like a chain reaction, it happens so fast. Meg starts crying harder, I glare them into submission, and they start throwing out apologies like they're going out of style. "Sorry-we're so sorry-we shouldn't have said that-sorry!"

She continues crying as they settle down, James finally reaching in his bag for the Map. "I don't understand, didn't _she_ call it off with _him_?" Lou asks hesitantly, quietly, like he doesn't want her to hear and is nervous to set her off again.

I throw a glare his direction, but James beats me to it. "Come on, Lou, you have sisters."

"Yeah, but Vic and Teddy are the perfect couple and Dominique doesn't cry over boys, boy cry over Dominique," Lou argues and I cock my head at a statement that has clearly been said multiple times, curious at what exactly goes down in Lou's house.

"Ok, but-" Freddy starts.

"Hey, guys?" I start, gesturing at Meg on my chest. "Focus please, I need ice cream, chocolate, and cookie dough, stat,"

"What kind of cookie dough?"

"Chocolate chip!" Meg sobs, like it's obvious, because duh, but it serves its purpose because they all look scared and go running off, scattering in different directions before regrouping to head to the kitchens.

They're idiots, but they're our idiots so I guess we love them still.

* * *

"Well," I collapse onto the couch next to James, resting my head against his shoulder-the closest thing to a pillow that's within reach-and closing my eyes. "She's finally in bed AND asleep,"

I feel his arm drop around my shoulders, pulling me closer, as he groans. "Is that what it's like having kids? I feel like we just parented a toddler,"

"Bet your mom will be happy to know you won't be accidentally getting anyone pregnant soon," I snicker, opening my eyes again and seeing empty chairs. "Where'd they go?"

"Lou had rounds and Freddy went up to bed," I purse my lips; I was anxious to see how Freddy would take Meg's break with Tim and wanted to know what, if anything, he was planning to do. "Figured I'd wait for you so you didn't come back down here to no one,"

I smile; he truly is the greatest. "You just wanted the hot details," I declare.

"Added bonus," He grins easily. "So how about you tell me how you got the black eye."

I hesitate. Upstairs, before I'd finally gotten her down to sleep (Merlin, James is right; this is like parenting), she'd given me more details about what had happened when she'd talked with Tim. That she'd calmed down since Friday, had planned to tell him about the pregnancy scare and talk about it with him like an adult, and let him know that all thoughts of the future terrified her right now, but maybe, soon, they could sit down and talk about where they were going.

Instead, she'd taken one look at him, panicked, and told him that she thought they should take a break for a while.

In terms of telling our boys, I know she won't care if I tell James a little more about the break...but it'll be tough without mentioning the pregnancy scare, the cause of this sudden change, which isn't something I'm willing to break her trust on without her permission.

So finally, I settle on a half-truth. "Meg was too drunk Friday night and decided she wanted to call Tim to break up with him over the phone so I had to wrestle it away from her,"

He laughs so hard that both our bodies are shaking and not for the first time, I marvel at what a great laugh he has, especially when it's loud and uninhibited like this. "She got you good, huh?" He reaches out, lightly brushing his fingers against the edge of the bruising.

I can feel my eyes flutter shut. "Your fingers feel really good. It actually really fucking hurts," I add, only for him to take his cool, gentle fingers away. "Rude,"

"Here," I open my eyes to see that he's conjured a cold compress for me. "It'll help with the swelling."

So I lean further into him, settling in with my cold compress, ready to chat all about Meg and catch up with James about the weekend.

When the next morning comes around, I wake up with a sore neck, a lukewarm compress in hand, and an annoying piece of hair that keeps getting blown around my face by James' soft snores. Still tucked into his shoulder, I drop the compress onto the ground, and push the hair out of my face.

It's far too early to wake up, even for a school day; and as usual, being with James is nice, easy, and comfortable.

* * *

 **A/N:** I don't own Taylor Swift, any mentioned songs, or "Clean" specifically. Hope you all enjoyed!


	15. fifteen

"Where are you going _now_?" Erin stops me in my tracks and I paste a patient smile on my face as I whirl around to face her, my brothers, and my dad in the living room.

"Out for dinner,"

"Again?" Dad cries. "That's the fourth night since you've been home!"

"It's not like any of them are serious," I say. "But I mean, if I can get a free meal, it's worth a date,"

"You don't pay for meals anyway, who are you kidding! Who is this boy you're seeing?" He demands.

"Well yesterday was that guy who works at the coffee shop I like down here," I shrug. "And tonight's just James; we do it every week,"

Dad's eyes widen comically as Erin presses. "Do what?"

"Go for tacos,"

"Thank Merlin," Dad mutters as I fight back a snicker.

"Can I come?" Parker asks.

"Uhh, no," I answer.

"But I love tacos," He whines.

"Another day, kid," I say, as the doorbell rings. "Come in," I call and after a few seconds, James is joining us in the living room.

"Hey!" He greets me, and then, "Oh! Hello everyone!"

Dad gives me a look. "Nice of _this one_ to come inside,"

"Nice of _you_ not to stand in the doorway threatening potential injury,"

Dad grins, unfazed. "Have a great time!"

James frowns, as we walk out the door. "What was that about?"

"Ugh, Dads and their old-fashioned ways of dating," I roll my eyes.

"Oh," James nods. "Cool,"

" _Not really_ , he totally doesn't understand it's different now than when he was our age and was ready to lecture me about the dates I've had recently,"

James hesitates. "Well maybe he's right. Maybe you should-"

I cut him off. "I'm here for a good time, not a long one,"

He looks at me, puzzled. "Uhh, seriously?"

"Well, no, I'm definitely _here_ to stay but like in terms of a relationship, for sure, it's better to expect less,"

James shakes his head and offers me his arm to Side-Along Apparate to whatever taco place he's got in mind somewhere in London. "Oh, Carson,"

And, yeah, ok, maybe he's right to sigh in my general direction, but before I can say anything back, I feel the pull in my stomach signaling the start of movement and I brace myself, deciding to focus instead on better thoughts once we arrive for dinner.

* * *

On the evening of Dad's annual Puddlemere Christmas Dinner, I flounce down the stairs in my long-sleeved olive green dress and knee-high brown boots. The soft slip is covered in a delicate lace, with wide sleeves. It had met all Meg's standards when we'd gone shopping earlier in the week, but more importantly, it's comfortable, which means it met my only requirement.

On the first floor, Alicia is directing the caterers, wearing a bronze colored dress I could only dream of being able to wear. She'd banished Dad to helping the boys get dressed and myself to assisting Erin, who'd been simple to please once I'd curled her hair the same way as my own and agreed to let her wear her favorite pink dress, so long as she wore a cardigan over top.

I'm a cool older sister, but I'm not an animal. It's far too cold to go sleeveless and no one wants to deal with that monster once she's gotten sick.

Dad's hosted the Puddlemere organization for dinner every year since becoming GM, in what quickly became one of the team's favorite traditions. There are no League games the week of Christmas, but a lot of the foreign guys opted not to go home anyway because of logistical reasons. It wasn't uncommon to see at least one of the young, single guys on the team passed out on the couch at the end of the night only for them to stay there for the next few days.

"How'd you get the easy job?" Dad grumbles, finally corralling Parker and Colton down into the main room with Erin and me.

I raise an eyebrow at him. "Did you want to curl Erin's hair?"

He hesitates. "Eh, never mind,"

Alicia claps her hands together excitedly, interrupting the two of us and stopping all her directing, to beam at the family. "Oh, look at all my babies together at last!"

"I've been home for almost two weeks!"

She ignores me. "In front of the fireplace; let's get a picture!"

It's only when guests start arriving that she lets us move away (albeit reluctantly, her promise to get more pictures later laughed off by Dad and I who know she'll be trashed an hour after dinner is finished). She slips back into her hostess role and I grab a glass of wine, meeting up with Dad and his boss; the big, bad President and Owner of the team.

Just kidding. Edmund Brickforth-Scott was loud, outgoing, and friendly to a point that maybe went too far. You almost had to feign someone calling your name to get away from conversation with him sometimes.

I'm sure Alicia could use the help somewhere if this gets too involved for me.

"Look at you," He marvels, pulling me in for a hug. "You're so grown up now! What's it been since I've seen you last? At least last year. Your dad says you're loving Hogwarts! Seventh Year now, right?"

I smile. Mr. Eddie, as I'd always called him, had been more like a grandfather to me than my Dad's father ever had: buying me Christmas presents, always asking questions about school with genuine interest, sitting with me during games in the early days before Dad started dating Alicia. It seems nothing had changed since I'd last seen him.

I nod in response. "Yeah, Seventh Year. Hogwarts...Hogwarts is great," I say honestly, immediately beginning to further gush about my friends and classes and Quidditch in a most un-me-like manner.

Mr. Eddie beams back. "I knew you'd like it. Any thoughts about coming to play for your Dad after graduation?"

Dad and I immediately burst into laughter so loud that Alicia has to glare us into submission from across the room (mild success; we're still laughing fairly hard when we calm slightly). "No," I say. "No no no no nononononono,"

"Absolutely not," Dad agrees at the same time.

"Wow," Mr. Eddie laughs, looking between us. "Answer a little faster,"

"Can you imagine?" I ask, eyes wide, trying to picture that disaster.

"I picture smart comments, ignoring directions, and blatant abuse of power," Dad adds.

Mr. Eddie shrugs. "Gee, wonder where she gets that from?"

Dad's words of outrage are lost on me as Alicia really does call out for my help and then it's hours of mingling later before Mr. Eddie is calling for everyone's attention in a toast. "And another hand for Alicia here for putting together another great evening!" We all clap as Alicia smiles modestly and he continues. "Team, you are doing good work this year and I am _proud_ of what you're doing! We've come a long way since last year and you just keep getting better,"

The room echoes with cheers, my own included, but none louder than the three guys next to me. Brett Keller, Zach Bloomberg, and Anthony Rinelli are clapping and whistling as they keep the excitement up even as Mr. Eddie tries to continue. "Thanks-thanks-thank you, boys!" He's finally able to calm them (with assistance from an elbow or two from me). "But I've got to give a lot of credit to this guy over here," He throws his arm around Dad's shoulders. "Oliver has pulled this team from the bottom, showing the same strength, resiliency, and creativity as he did as a player," More cheers. "And it seems we're not the only ones who have noticed!"

He looks around, as if waiting for cheers, only this is met with complete and total silence. I look around, meeting Alicia's eyes, noting she looks just as confused as I do, and focus on Dad for a moment, who doesn't seem to know anything either, and around me, the boys have begun mumbling under their breath, and it takes Mr. Eddie a moment to capture all our attention back.

"It is my honor to announce our very own Oliver Wood as one of this year's Professional Quidditch Hall of Fame Inductees,"

Jaw dropped, I don't even realize I'm pushing my way forward until I've already reached Dad. Alicia's already up there, her arms thrown around him, and I just pile myself on, pulling Colton and Erin in, who I don't think quite understand exactly what's going on, but know something big just happened.

"A toast," Mr. Eddie announces, and we pull ourselves together enough to raise our glasses with the rest of the room. "To this team and our leader!"

And boy, if thought we had been hungover after past Christmas parties, it was _nothing_ on this one.

* * *

"Is this necessary?" James asks, flipping hastily through the racks and offering no support.

I look up at him from my own rack of clothing. "This was the deal! You were the one who waited until Christmas Eve to shop for his mom's Christmas present and _begged me_ for help. And all you had to do in exchange was help me pick out a dress,"

He scowls. "I didn't think it would take this long! You're not usually this-" He cuts off abruptly.

I raise an eyebrow at him. "Not usually this-"I wave him on. "Go on,"

"I'd rather not," He says. "My mum and sister have taught me better than that,"

"Just because you don't ever _see_ me being girly, doesn't mean it doesn't happen,"

"Oh believe me, I see it," James mutters.

"What?"

"Nothing," I frown. He holds out a dress. "How about this one?"

"It's puke colored!"

"This one?" He tries again.

"That was just the next one you saw,"

"So what? It's nice!"

I purse my lips, reluctantly admitting that he's right. And it's navy blue, which hadn't been a requirement I'd admitted to him, but was something I'd been secretly looking for. Wearing Puddlemere's blue to Dad's induction would be one of those little things that would go just that extra bit further.

On the contrary, wearing the specific color of a competitor would draw a scandalous headline of the Prophet. _Oliver Wood's Daughter, Secret Falcon's Fan?_

A shame because I look good in light blue. It brings out my eyes.

When I drag James back to the dressing room, I've got two navy dresses, two black ones, and a sparkly cream colored one.

The first two are definite no's from me and when James just shrugs, I take it as the same from him.

"What is this even for?" He asks, when I come out in the third-the sparkly cream slip-and step toward the mirror inspecting accordingly.

The room is empty, I've checked thoroughly, so I feel confident answering. "Dad's being inducted into the Hall of Fame,"

This dress is a maybe and I return to the dressing room for the fourth dress as James responds. "That's awesome! When's the ceremony?"

The first of the navy dresses won't zip and I pull a face at myself in the mirror inside before reaching for the last, James' one find of the day, and answering. "Right before we go back to school,"

The zipper slides up easily and I smooth my hands over the satin skirt of the A-line dress. I quickly throw my hair over one shoulder and adjust the keyhole opening and high neckline before throwing open the door, just in time for James to say, "That's incred-" He stops abruptly, jaw slightly dropped as his eyes follow me to the mirror.

"You like?" I tease gently.

He nods slowly. "Wait, is that the dress I picked?"

I beam. "So you _do_ know what you're talking about!"

"Screw you,"

I shake my head, smiling fondly at him. "Come on, let me get out of this and we'll go get your mom something,"

He grins. "I take it back; you're wonderful,"

* * *

The mattress under me bounces with movement and I turn my face into the pillow, ignoring the feeling of someone moving closer. "Carson," Colton pokes his finger into my cheek. "Car-son," He does it again and drags out my name. "Wake up! Santa came!"

I groan and roll over. Well, this explains a lot. "Santa?"

"Yeah!" Colton beams excitedly. It's more adorable than usual since he's lost that second front tooth. Parker and I had been singing "All I Want For Christmas is My Two Front Teeth" ever since he'd lost that second tooth a few days ago and since it drives him crazy, I refrain from doing it now and instead allow him to pull me out of bed and join him, Parker, and Erin at the top of the stairs to wait for Alicia to take her customary Christmas morning picture before we're allowed downstairs.

My siblings rush down the stairs as soon as they're given the all clear and I follow along at a leisurely pace to be met by Alicia at the bottom of the stairs with a hug and a giant mug of coffee. "Good morning!"

"You are an angel among humans and I love you," I return.

She laughs, keeping her arm around my shoulder to lead me to the living room. Dad's there already, supervising the young-uns finding their pile of presents, so I settle by my spot on the floor, content with watching my siblings anxiously await their turn to open a present, and avoiding the thoughts of Christmases past spent with my Mom.

Siblings placated with gifts of their own, they're content to allow Dad, Alicia, and I to open our ours. The highlights of my haul from them includes a French Press with accompanying fancy coffees, some new clothes, a new pair of Dragon leather boots, and the latest model of Wiz Phone (featuring new and updated camera) and I move onto my friends' gifts. "What's that?" I ask, noticing Dad sliding one more next to me.

"You'll see when you open it," He says cryptically. "What do you have there?"

From James, it's a new fancy leather notebook designed especially for keeping track of Quidditch stats. It's got blank pages, diagrams of the pitch, pages filled with each position and spots to keep track of the associated stats.

 _So you can argue more about possession and shooting. -J,_ he'd scribbled on the inside cover.

"Quidditch notebook," I respond happily, ignoring the rest of my friends' gifts in favor of pulling the box Dad had just put down. I tear into the paper, never one for neatly opening a gift no matter how pretty the paper, and lift the lid off the box, revealing...a bunch of papers?

I look up at Dad, confused, even more so by the soft smile on his face. Alicia's come over to join him, looking a bit nervous, and I lift the papers gently, jaw dropping as I read the title again. It barely sinks in before I'm looking up at them again. "Is-is this for real?" _Petition for Adoption._

"It's a little late," Dad says quietly, even though it doesn't really matter. Parker, Erin, and Colton are so distracter with their toys they don't even notice us. "More of a formality really, with you being, you know, already an adult. I told you, we tried to get you earlier, but without your mother signing over any rights..." He trails off.

"Only if you'll have me, of course," Alicia hastens to add. "So think about it,"

"Of course, I'll have you!" I throw myself at them, just barely managing to land in their arms. "You-what would I need to think about?"

"It's a big decision..." She starts, looping her arms around me tighter.

"There's no decision," I tell her. "I love you guys, so much, and I want to be a part of this family!"

Alicia beams, the tears that have been in the corner of her eyes flowing freely now, but Dad just pulls us both closer, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "You always have been, kid,"

* * *

 **A/N:** Hope you enjoyed. Let me know what you think in a review!

 _Coming Up Soon: Carson and Freddy attempt to offer their support as friends, the Annual Ministry of Magic Employees and Family Christmas Party, Carson plans a trip._


	16. sixteen

The warming charm I'd cast on myself seems like it's doing a fat lot of nothing with this wind and I step closer into Freddy's side, hoping to hide myself from it. Freddy snorts a laugh, and wraps his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his side as we make our way closer to the thumping bass that is no doubt the bar Vero wants us to meet her at. "You wouldn't be cold if you'd just worn a jacket like I told you to,"

"What would I do with a jacket?" I cry. "It'd just get lost! Besides, it would totally ruin my outfit!" The tight sequined mini skit, white flowy crop top, and high heeled booties are not only festive for this lovely party week between Christmas and New Year's but also sure to draw some eyes toward Vero and I tonight, so she can show this scumbag ex of hers that she is absolutely better off without him.

Freddy rolls his eyes and shakes his head, muttering something under his breath that sounds like, "girls," as we approach the door. Vero is there to meet us, motioning us past the bouncer, her cousin, who nods us inside without asking for the cover charge, despite the complaints from the group at the front of the line.

And man, if I thought I looked good tonight, it's nothing on my best friend. Vero's got on a black bodycon dress with strategically placed cut-outs, with her hair curled to perfection, and this dark red lip stick Meg would die for. Freddy whistles the minute we get inside, and she grins. "Not too much?"

"Fucking perfect," I greet her with a smacking kiss on the cheek and allow her to pull Freddy and I forward. It's possible he and I may have pregamed this event.

Just, you know, a tad. But when Vero called and said she needed back up because she got roped into going out with all her ex-boyfriends' friends and that he would definitely be there, I figured it can't hurt to be prepared.

This group of former Hufflepuffs have snagged a large round booth in a corner. One of the guys is already flirting with the waitress, another laughs as he offers his best wingman commentary, and the only other girls here whisper to each other as they side eye the two of them. It's there Vero slides in, and Freddy and I follow. "What's Steb up to?"

"Still got no shot," The blonde says and her friend nods in agreement. "She's way too good for him,"

"He's been trying all night," The friend adds for my and Freddy's benefit. "To no success,"

Freddy fights back a laugh. "Stebbins tried to date my cousin Dominique when he was in, I think Fifth Year? Her Sixth. You want to talk about no shot, she _shut him down_ ,"

Both girls and Vero erupt into giggles. It's clear this is a moment engraved into the minds of these people, but they all calm as the waitress leaves Stebbins to come over to our side of the table to take orders.

Much to Stebbins' dismay, she immediately bats her pretty little eyelashes at Freddy, who merely bluntly responds with both his drink order and mine.

Oh, that boy has it _bad_.

Stebbins turns to me next, once she leaves and immediately turns on the charm. "Hey, I think-I think I know you."

"I doubt it,"

"No, I definitely do! We went to the same gym last summer,"

Freddy snorts (me, the gym, HA) as I respond. "Well, I don't really exercise, so not me,"

The guys surrounding him all bust on him for being shot down again and it gains me an instant in with the girls around us, starting an easy conversation with Freddy, Vero, and I.

It's once Amanda and Demetria ("Demi!" The darker haired friend had hastened to cover over her blonde friend's giggles, post-introduction. "We've been over this, A-man-DUH!) get sucked into a discussion about one of the boys' new girlfriends (the worst, apparently, and they're not even talking about Vero's ex-boyfriend's new girlfriend, the same ex-boyfriend who's laughing along with the rest of them) that I turn to Vero and ask, "You sure you're okay with this?"

Her eyes flicker over to the corner and then back to me. "I'm managing. It's better now that you guys are here,"

Freddy frowns. "I don't even know _why_ I'm here. I was told there'd be booze and a good time,"

"Can't you tell she needs one? Let's get some shots going!"

Hours of dancing, drinking, and shots later (including a brief stint where Vero and I danced on the bar until Freddy was able to coax us down), we settle back down in an empty booth near the bar to wait for drink refills.

Which conveniently gives us the perfect view of Vero's ex-boyfriend flirting with a pretty girl, who's not his girlfriend, across the room.

Her noise of disgust is under her breath but still audible and I turn to her. "V,"

"What?" Freddy says, looking around, clearly confused about what's happening.

He is, naturally, ignored. "I know I should be over him," It's not a real girls' night out (which this is, despite the participants really only including only me, Vero, and Freddy), unless you've drunkenly befriended other drunk girls in the bathroom, drunk texted someone you shouldn't have, and someone cries over a boy. Vero and I have already done the first and Freddy's done the second, and, well we appear to be headed for the third right now.

(Someone also needs to lose their phone or ID and trip over nothing in the sidewalk but I've got no doubts about those last two).

"V," I repeat helplessly.

She's full on sobbing now. "He's such an asshole! I don't even know why I'm crying!"

I rub her back gently. "You were together a long time. It's understandable you'd be upset,"

"I don't want to be upset anymore! I thought I was over it; we were done, this was supposed to be the night everything was fine and I could prove we could all be friendly!"

"So you need a little more time! That's okay, V, you two don't have to be best friends!"

A few deep breaths help her to calm her sobs into just light tears. "I just-I really thought I was over him and all this shit and now it turns out I'm not at all,"

"You're doing fine!" I pull her in for a hug and let her rest her head on my shoulder. "And you are better than he will ever be and one day you will find someone who appreciates how kind and beautiful and amazing you are and who isn't an asshole!"

"Are we talking about the boy?" Freddy asks, finally catching up.

I stare at him, as Vero huffs out a little tiny laugh. "Yes," I answer flatly.

"That guy's a _douche_ and you are so much better off without him!"

"To sum up everything I've been saying for the last 10 minutes, "I add dryly.

"You just need to drink more," Freddy tells her and Vero nods excitedly as he signals for more shots for the three of us. "It's what I've been doing all night and I barely even remember I'm in love with Meg now,"

Well, that's one way to get her mind of Lycus.

* * *

When I awaken the next morning, it's in a vaguely familiar bedroom to the sound of groans and a pile of dark hair in my face. I sit up slightly and see Freddy frowning at me from the foot of his bed. "How the hell did I end up down here? It's my bed!"

"You laid there the minute we came in and passed out! Would have been better if you could have laid up top like a normal person. It was very uncomfortable to have to sleep curled up all night,"

"Shh!" Vero rolls over and the dark hair that'd been in my mouth splays out over the pillows. "You're all too loud,"

"Stop moving," Freddy closes his eyes. "I'm going to throw up."

"I need food," Shoved in the corner next to the wall and surrounded by hungover friends, I need some movement here, some initiative.

"Don't mention food," Freddy whines.

"Stop yelling!" Vero rolls on her side to cover her ears.

"Stop moving!"

"Okay!" I jump in. How the hell did I end up the mother in this situation? I am _never_ the mother in a friend group! "Freddy, you are going to get up, _slowly_ , and go throw up and then stop whining about it. V, _stop moving until he gets out of bed_!"

For once, they comply, and Freddy stands, pauses, and then nods. "Yep, see you in a few,"

Vero and I look at each other and giggle before slowly making our own way out of bed. We'd both raided Freddy's drawers last night prior to falling into bed and so we're gathering last night's outfits when he returns looking miles better than when he left. "Alright, I'm ready for food."

"That's nice," I say mildly. "But I'm in a t-shirt and I'd like to get dressed first since it's 11am and-"

"Shit!" Vero swears, yanking her dress on under her t-shirt. "I'm late!"

"How'd you do that?" Freddy asks in amazement, as she whips her t-shirt off, fully re-dressed.

"All girls can do that," I say impatiently, and then focusing on the more important issue, ask, "Where are you going?"

"I'm supposed to meet my brothers, sister, and sister-in-law today," She lifts a blanket corner. "Where are my shoes?"

"Just take mine," I offer. "I'll look for yours and use them,"

She beams, yanking on my booties and kissing us both on the cheek. "Bye, love you, do this again soon!"

"Ministry Ball in two days!" I call.

"Brilliant!" She can be heard returning as Freddy and I size each other up.

"You look like shit," I tell him.

"Your hair is a mess,"

"Shower before food?"

Freddy nods, throwing himself back into bed. "You go first. I'm going to nap a little longer,"

* * *

"Where'd you get that sweater?" Alicia reaches for the oversized cable knit sweater as I tug off the jacket I'd borrowed from Freddy.

Actually, my whole outfit is a loan and I answer such to Alicia. "Roxy's closet," Fred's younger sister, Roxanne, has a style that can best be described as bohemian. It's certainly not my typical style, but she'd giggled and laughed with me this morning when I showed up at her door in my towel after my shower begging for fresh clothes, before helping me dig through her closet to find this comfy oatmeal colored cardigan, white t-shirt, black leggings, and slouchy boots (Vero's shoes from last night still MIA, as is Freddy's phone apparently).

"Cute!"

I turn to Aunt Ang, who's pulling her own jacket off. "Rox may never be getting this sweater back,"

Aunt Ang shrugs. "She's got in about six colors. I doubt she'll miss it,"

She, Alicia, and I laugh while Freddy looks at us confused. "Why does she own six of the same sweater?"

"Well if you really like it," Alicia says.

It doesn't settle him at all. He nudges me instead. "Go get our table."

The entrance to Maxie's, the hottest brunch spot in Diagon Alley, is packed to the brim with people waiting for a table. The restaurant has built itself a reputation for great food and with it's increase in popularity, now required a reservation to get in no matter what, and there's still a wait usually. Even today, in the middle of the week (granted, a holiday week when people are off work), it's busy as anything with every table full and the hostesses doing their best to manage the growing crowd in front.

I push my way to the front and wait patiently as one of them checks another customer in, listening as she tells him it'll be about an hour before a table is ready and him confirming that they'll wait, before she turns to me. "Hi, I'm Carson? Bobby said he'd put my name on the list, 4 people?"

She looks down and then over at the other paper on her right. "Oh! Ok, here. It'll be about 5 to 10 minutes while we get the table cleaned but not much longer,"

I smile. "Great, thanks,"

Of course, there was another way to get yourself into the most exclusive brunch in Diagon Alley. I'd accepted a date with Bobby, who was a waiter here at Maxie's, without knowing what he did, and had naturally been thrilled when he'd offered to get me into the restaurant for brunch anytime I wanted.

Hell, I'd even consider a second date for a brunch at Maxie's.

Maybe. We'll see how the food is today.

Bobby's not our waiter, but he stops by a few minutes after our waiter drops our drink orders off. He commends us all on our meal choice, drops off a free bowl of fresh fruit to our table, and tells us to try today's dessert pastry before he has to run off again.

"He's alright," Freddy remarks once he's gone. "But not really your type,"

"No?"

"Manbun?"

I laugh. "Alright, fair point,"

"He doesn't look like a creepy murderer!" Aunt Ang says.

"That was oddly reassuring, thanks," I tell her.

"I never pictured you with such a..." Alicia trails off. "A hipster,"

"Yeah," Freddy adds. "He's got better hair than you!"

"How dare you?" I cry, patting my hair. "He will never!"

"Don't worry, you'll always have better hair than me," Freddy wraps his arm around my shoulder and shakes me, so he doesn't notice the look Alicia and Aunt Angelina exchange, but I do and fix them both with a glare.

They smile back at me innocently.

I'm suspicious.

We move into talking about classes and the semester (getting _grilled_ about end of term grades and upcoming NEWTs), discuss the happenings in the Department of Magical Games and Sports, and something funny Aunt Ang encountered while at work earlier in the month with her job in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, until finally our food gets dropped off.

"So what are your plans for the rest of break?" Alicia asks, immediately cutting into her eggs benedict served with bacon, tomato, and avocado.

Freddy shrugs, focusing more on his steak and eggs meal (which looks delicious), and I looks up from my chicken and waffles to answer. "I want to get down to the beach house,"

"So go!"

"Well I don't want to go alone!"

"Freddy will go with you!" Aunt Ang jumps in quickly. "He'd love to go and keep you company, isn't that right?"

"Huh?" He finally looks up. "What now?"

"That's a great idea!" Alicia beams and I lean back in my chair, reaching for my mimosa. These two aren't fooling anyone. "There are some _great_ restaurants and bars down there! You guys could get dinner and drinks together! Oh, and the beach is so nice to walk along; it'd be great for a bon fire!"

"Yeah?"

"Bring some blankets, lie on the beach," Aunt Ang adds. "There'd be nobody there to bother you!"

"A whole empty house to yourself!" Alicia hints excitedly.

Freddy's looking between them, finally catching on, as I keep casually sipping my mimosa. "Did you just-"

"That sounds awesome!" I cut him off with a look.

"Yes!" Freddy nods. "Haven't had a good bon fire in ages. Bring some drinks down, party on the beach a bit,"

"Party on the beach! James and Lou and Meg will be mad if we have a party without them!"

"Gotta throw Liam and Danny an invite too," Freddy says.

I nod. "Of course, there's plenty of space!"

Alicia smiles tightly. "Great. All of you. That's-wonderful!" She looks over at Aunt Ang, who's throwing back the rest of her mimosa with a dark look in her eyes.

I fight back a laugh, exchanging a look with Freddy. "Yeah, isn't it?"

* * *

 **A/N:** You know when you're writing things and you look at the end realize things just really got away from you? Yeah, that's what happened here. Part 2 of this chapter to follow.

 _Coming Up Soon: The Annual Ministiry of Magic Employees and Family Holiday Party, more Weasley and Potter family members make their debut_


	17. seventeen

"Wow!" James looks me up and down as I approach.

"Oh, stop," I wave him off, pulling him in for a hug. The dress I'd worn to the Annual Ministry of Magic Employees and Family Holiday Party had a definite vintage vibe to it, with small cap sleeves, a cinched waist, and a skirt that wasn't too heavy. The best part of it was definitely the fairy dust, sewn into the dark gray material, giving it the appearance of sparkling or twinkling, like a starry night. "If you're about to make a glowing joke..." I trail off warningly.

He smiles at me. "I wasn't,"

"Good," Glass of champagne in hand, I glance around us. "Where's the rest of the crew? I left Freddy at the bar; he was taking too long."

James shrugs. "Lou's around somewhere but I haven't seen Vero yet."

"We got ready together; she was stopping home to meet up with her sister before she came over,"

"How many siblings does she have?" He frowns, trying to count on his fingers.

"Three. Two older brothers and a sister, but I know what you're thinking of," I say as Lou joins our group with a blue-haired man, and his and James' dads. "And she has a sister-in-law too that her whole family is very close with,"

"Can't imagine what that's like," Blue Hair grumbles, and at my confused look. Introduces himself. "I'm Teddy,"

"Oh!" I say brightly. "Lou's brother-in-law,"

"He's not my brother-in-law!" Lou huffs. "No, wait! Damn it, Carson!"

Harry and Bill cover their laughs in their drinks and James and I make no attempts to hide ours, as Teddy, clearly offended, says. "Uh, ok, Louis,"

"Everything you thought it'd be?" James asks, throwing his arm around my shoulders.

I bite my lip to try and calm down to very little success. "So much more!"

"I hate you," Lou shakes his at me, eyes narrowed. "So _so_ much,"

I beam back at him, leaning forward and grabbing his cheek to press a smacking kiss to it. He rubs at the light pink imprint left behind as I say, "Love you too, boo," just in time for my dad and Uncle Justin to walk past.

"Seriously?" Dad stops, meaning Uncle Justin does too. "Another one? For Merlin's sake, could you just pick _one boy_ and stick with him? Or better yet, none at all?"

"Oh don't worry! Lou creates his own girl problems because the girl he's in love with is totally also in love with him and he refuses to do anything about it but I am not that girl,"

"Hey!" Lou cries.

"Who's this girl?" Bill teases good-naturedly. "I've learned more about your life from Carson tonight than I have from you all break,"

"When can we meet her?" Teddy asks.

"I'm not subjecting her to this family; she's way too normal for this!" Lou says.

Harry shrugs. "Carson seems to manage just fine; she's been around James and Freddy," He nudges his son playfully.

Lou fixes his uncle with a look. "Carson makes _those two_ seem normal,"

"I resent that!" I say as James, my dad, and Uncle Justin all snicker into their drinks. "And just for that, I'm going to tell your entire family all about Maeve! Where's Dominique?"

Lou pales. "Anyone but Dominique."

I spot her blonde hair in the crowd. "Dom!" I call, beginning my push through the crowd.

"Carson!" Lou hisses.

I beam. "Toodle-loo,"

* * *

"Hello to my most favorite people!" Vero swings an arm around mine and Freddy's shoulders.

"What is she on?" Dom asks, sending her a look from across the table the group of us (us, being myself, James, Freddy, Lou, and some of their cousins, siblings, and close friends). "And do I want some?"

"A lot of champagne?" I say to Dom in answer to her question, while patting Vero's hand and sliding over for her to share my chair. "And absolutely,"

Dom grins, signaling for another round as Vero sits and beams again at Freddy. "It's been such a great night!"

"Why's that?" Freddy asks amused, looking over her head to exchange a look with me and James, who's seated on my other side and doing a poor job hiding his laughter at our friend.

"I've gotten free drinks, the shrimp is _fantastic_ ," Hell yeah, that's my girl. " _and_ Lycus brought the new girl with him and they both look miserable tonight!"

"Oh," I say.

"That was us," Freddy adds.

She looks back and forth between us. "You-how?"

"They were next to us at the bar earlier and Freddy may have just _loudly_ pointed out who our friend's boyfriend was at the beginning of the year before they broke up in the middle of the semester," I say casually as Freddy grins.

Vero frowns. "But you met him a few days ago."

"But she doesn't know that," I respond.

A bright smile spreads across her face. "You guys!"

Freddy shrugs. "That wasn't the only thing I did,"

I gasp. "Me too!"

He grins. "Time delayed color charm on his hair. You?"

"Temporary shrinkage charm. On...a different body part."

Vero catches my meaning right away and kisses my cheek and a few seats away Dominique howls with laughter, but it takes the boys who hear me a minute and when it clicks, there's fear in all their eyes. "Remind me to never get on your bad side," James says, looking terrified.

"Are you just learning that now?"

He shakes his head at my question. "No, but it was a good reminder,"

* * *

It's at least an hour later when Vero leans her head against mine and sighs loudly. "Is it _bad_ I'm happy he's miserable right now?"

Dom, who's taken Freddy's place after declaring the two of us her new best friends (and proudly congratulating Louis on finding "cool friends that she actually wants to hang out with," which had led to a whole fight with James and Freddy where she swore up and down she didn't mean them) shakes her head and says, "Hell no! He deserves to be!"

Vero looks over at me and I shrug. "I'm sticking with what I said the other night. You're allowed to not like him,"

"It feels petty,"

"Fine," I say reasonably. "Then you be the better person and I'll hate him," She laughs. "Look, you had like, long-term plans to be with him. It's not unreasonable to be upset about seeing him do those things with someone else.

"It's just going to take some time," Dom agrees.

Vero sighs. "I wish I was more like you," She nudges me.

Dom looks over. "What are you like?"

Freddy grins, leaning over and jumping in on the conversation, evidently having been listening in and throwing in his own answer (even though I know that's not what she was getting at). "Oh, Carson's a food digger,"

"A what?" Dom looks between us.

"She goes on dates, so she can get a free meal,"

Dom bursts into laughter. "That's brilliant!"

"That's just what Freddy calls it," I admit.

"Well you don't ever get past a first date and you're always more excited for the food," He argues. "You went on three last week for the food alone! One you only even went on to get a second meal out of! What would you call it?"

I grin. "And now we get to go back to Maxie's anytime!" All because during that one meal, we'd met and charmed the chef and boom; on the instant list for life.

Sorry, Bobby, no second date now.

Dominique looks at me like I've changed her life. "I'm doing something so wrong."

Lou stares back at her. "I think you're fine. Please don't start bringing home more boys. You bring home plenty already. I'm tired of being nice as it is,"

* * *

This little balcony off the side hallway I found on the way back from the bathroom is located directly across from the main ballroom. It gives a beautiful view into the floor to ceiling windows and of the back patio where a few people seem to be drifting out to now that they've had a few drinks.

Basically, it's the perfect spot to people watch without anyone being able to see.

Through the window, I can see Lou's being teased by both of his sisters now (he's got that look on his face that he usually only gets when Freddy, James, Meg, and I gang up on him about Maeve). My dad and Alicia are at a table with Uncle Justin and his wife Sofia, Uncle George and Aunt Ang, and Bill and Fleur. I don't even have to be in the room to know they're the loudest group in the room.

The deck is a whole different crowd, like a lot of the younger kids have moved out to get some air. Lycus and the new girl are in one corner, not fighting but not really talking either, in this weird middle ground, like they're pushing a fight off until later. Teddy's standing with Albus around one of the fire pits, and I can see Roxy walking in their direction.

"What are you doing?"

I jump at the voice, looking over and smiling when I realize it's only James. "Just watching,"

He steps closer, leaning against the edge with me. "Anything good?"

"Just Vic and Dom fighting the good fight for us,"

James laughs. "If there was someone he'd listen to, it'd be Vic,"

"The all-encompassing Weasley-Potter older sister," I tease.

He nods. "She takes her role very seriously," He nudges me gently. "Look over there,"

On the balcony, there's a couple around our age backed against the wall in the darkest corner. They're giggling as they talk, foreheads close, hands occasionally meeting. I can't see much of her, save for her silky dark hair and dark green gown, but him, him I recognize as he reaches up and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, taking care to slowly drag his finger down her cheek.

"Hey, that's Dylan Clark!" I muse. "Look at him, putting the moves on! He did not break those out when we made out on Thursday!"

"Would you _stop_?" James bursts out. It's out of character and strange in tune and I turn to him, concerned.

"Ohhh-kay," I draw out the word.

"I don't want to hear about how you made out with Dylan Clark! Are you really-" He cuts off abruptly.

What is happening right now? "Are you alright?"

"No! Yes! No, I mean, yes, I'm fine! Just-for Merlin's sake!" He cries finally. "I have watched you date guy after guy this year and _wondered_ when it was going to be my turn! Just give me a chance! Let me prove to you that we're not all terrible, and maybe you'll actually like one of us for once!" James is breathing hard, like he's fighting back screaming or punching the wall.

My mouth opens, then closes, then opens again. Why am I suddenly so hot? It shouldn't be this warm. We're on a balcony _in December_ , for Merlin's sake; I thought we had this global warming shit under control. It shouldn't be so freaking warm out here right now.

I try to swallow the lump in my throat and when that does nothing I try again, only for the same result. My mouth opens a third, fourth, fifth time. The noise that finally escapes can barely be described as human.

"Right," James says flatly, so clearly hurt. He spins on his heel to move back in toward the party. "That's what I thought."

It's only after he's inside that my voice starts to work. "James, wait!" He doesn't look back. "James!" I try again, louder this time, and when he still doesn't turn and only walks further away from me, I slump against the railing and bury my face into my hands.

Way to go Carson; you really fucked this one up.

* * *

 **A/N:** This chapter brought to you by _New Light_ by John Mayer and his amazing/hilarious music video.

 _Coming Up Soon: Oliver parents, The Gang Goes the the Beach House, Meg makes a discovery_


	18. eighteen

"Hey kiddo," I roll over, barely waiting until Dad's settled himself against my headboard to rest my head against his shoulder. "So that's where we're at, huh?"

"Yep,"

"You've been in bed for three days now," Dad ignores my huge sigh. "At first we just thought you were really hungover, but now we're pretty concerned,"

I fight back a laugh. "So you lost Cloak, Stone, Wand to come talk to me?"

It's Dad's turn to sign. "Actually I won it, but then Colton stuck gum in Erin's hair and I figured you were the easier one to deal with." He pauses. "You are going to be the easier one the deal with, right?"

"Do you really think you could get gum out of Erin's hair?"

He pokes me. "We're dealing with your problems, not mine," I laugh and Dad smiles. "Is everything ok?"

I shrug.

"You're being very unhelpful," He says, matter-of-factly. "I should have tackled the gum and left you for Alicia." But he continues to rub my shoulder gently and doesn't say anything as he waits me out patiently.

"I'm nervous," I say finally.

"About what?"

"That I'll screw it all up!"

"You won't screw it up." Dad says, reassuringly, using his best dad voice, the one he hardly ever uses on me. "You'll be great. You'll see,"

"You don't even know what you think I won't screw up!"

That one catches him for a loop and I see him running through the words before they register. He presses a kiss to my forehead and says, "Yes, but as your father, it's my job to support you no matter what," He turns his head to look down at me. "In all seriousness though, we love you no matter what and you're perfect the way you are so don't let anyone tell you otherwise," He nods to himself. "Think I covered all my bases there,"

I huff out a laugh. "Thanks, Dad,"

He loops his other arm around me and squeezes tightly. "Whenever you really want to talk about it, I'm here. Or Alicia. She's here too,"

"Shove off your parenting duties, I see how it is,"

"She did lose Cloak, Stone, Wand!"

* * *

"Holy hell!"

"Meggie!" I cry, running down the last few steps to greet her at the doorway.

She looks good, all happy and refreshed, as she throws her arms around me, leaving her bag on the ground. She'd left immediately after we'd gotten off the Hogwarts Express to celebrate the holiday with her mom's family in France and she returns now to ring in the New Year with us having lost most that lingering tenseness in her shoulders that had been hanging around since she'd called for her break with Tim.

"C-Dub! Holy hell!" She repeats. "This house is beautiful!"

Her reaction is fairly standard for anyone that's come here, including myself. I'd arrived around lunch to make sure everything was alright and was struck by my usual moment of nostalgia and awe.

The house looks different than when it was just Dad, Uncle Justin, and I, and yet, still similar. It's still got the same outside appearance-the navy with white trim, balconies overlooking the water, dock leading to the beach, rooftop deck-but the inside has had some significant changes.

Silverware, mostly. Alicia had refused to inhabit a place that only owned three bowls. (What do you need more than that, Uncle Justin had argued. There's only three of us! Carson eats her cereal out of a Solo Cup anyway!)

And you all wonder why I turned out this way.

Besides the dishware, she'd done some re-decorating when Dad and Uncle Justin had moved out and up. The upgrades were most certainly...needed, but sometimes I take a walk through remembering the ridiculous things that we used to get up to and wish we still had the old uncomfortable bean bag chair just for the fun of it.

"It's awesome," I agree. "Come on, we're in the kitchen." She moves her bag by the pile of others at the bottom of the steps and follows me happily to the kitchen, where the rest of our friends have already started drinking.

She's the last to arrive, just getting back to England this morning and then having to do her quick turn around to get here. Freddy and Lou had arrived shortly after I did and promptly sat around while I did most of the clean up work. Maeve arrived next, followed by Liam and Dan, then Lizzie shortly after them with far too much luggage for only a few days, and then, finally, only about an hour ago, James, who's been avoiding my eyes ever since.

Wildly enough, no one seems to notice.

Awkward, party of two?

Meg's presence sends the kitchen into a frenzy. Dan and Liam are excited, Maeve's concerned and asking about how she's feeling, James is up and making her a drink before he even says hello, and there's Lizzie giggling at the table, already drunk and reaching her arms out for Meg to hug her.

"My cousins are terrible," Meg says, when she finally makes her way to Lizzie, drink in hand, and settles in on the seat next to her. "So obnoxious and haughty. I've been stuck with my brother all week. Fill me in. What's happened?"

The glass in my hand drops to the floor and I hasten down to pick up the pieces as the memories of James' confession come to mind. Above me, Vero's regaling the tale of our drunken night out, including Freddy's dabble in Beyoncé dancing, but her words barely register as James' ring through my head. _Just give me a chance!_

"You know you have a wand for that,"

Liam's statement draws me back up and I'm sure my cheeks are pink as I stand. I shrug, continuing to avoid James' eyes. "Yeah, but it's all the way over there,"

Freddy shakes his head and rolls his eyes, lazily reaching for his wand in front of him to take care of the mess as Vero finishes. "And the best part is I don't have to see him now again until summer! Well, unless I go to Steb's housewarming party, but I'm thinking of skipping that, unless-C-Dub, you free?"

"Why does she get to go?" Freddy demands. "I was just as fun!"

"It's because I'm better at navigating that situation," I say, moving toward the table with Meg and Lizzie.

"How are you better at navigating two exes?" Freddy cries.

"You can't even keep one around long enough to navigate through," Dan teases.

The words cut more now than they would have a week ago. It's been three days since James confessed he liked me and as such, I've spent the last two days agonizing over that exact fact, that I've never been able to commit to a real relationship, and all the reasons why.

The first day had been spent puking in the bathroom in between realizing that my feelings for James definitely run a little deeper than standard friendship and most definitely run into that "like/attraction/crush" range.

It was probably not related, mostly.

But since I don't need this trip down the rabbit hole again (we're only here for four days and I can't spend three of them avoiding everything in bed), I plaster a smile on my face and address the boys. "I have been expertly managing two people who refuse to be in the same room as each other since before I could talk,"

Freddy bursts into laughter. "Is that what you call dragging her onto the bar to dance?"

"Did she talk to that douche once that night? No!"

Vero's beaming as the others all laugh. "It was perfect!" She says. "Although, maybe we could be a little less hungover the next time? My siblings _roasted_ me all day."

"So did our _mums_!" Freddy responds.

She snorts. "When? When you _continued drinking_ with them during brunch?"

Yes, actually, that was exactly when. But neither of us gets to respond because Lizzie positively _moans_ at the word brunch. " _Food_ , oh Merlin, I'm starving," and everyone looks over at her.

"When did she get so drunk?" Maeve sighs, which is a good sign for how this long weekend is going to go. A sigh is much better than a death glare or a yell. She's resigned to a good time.

Everyone shrugs, looking around at each other for an answer, but gives up fairly quickly, deciding to get dressed and ready to go out for dinner.

"You got room assignments for this trip?" Lou asks.

I shrug. "There's 8 bedrooms, so I figured you boys could each take one, Meg could share mine with me, and then you three gals could split the last two however works best for you?"

There's mumblings of agreement as everyone gathers their stuff and makes their way upstairs. By the time I get everyone settled in their rooms and make my way back to mine, Meg's already unpacking and looking at her outfit choices. "Oh good, you're back! Should I go with jeans and leather jacket or black jeans and oversized sweater?" She looks up when I don't answer to find me slumped against the door. "Carson? What's wrong?"

"I'm fine," I force a smile onto my face, determined not to make this an awkward weekend. I'll talk to Meg about it later. "Go with the sweater; I think I heard V say she was wearing her leather jacket,"

* * *

"Ok," Maeve and I step down into the kitchen, where the drinks are flowing and the party is going. "She's asleep,"

"Thank Merlin," I mutter and Maeve fights back a laugh. It hadn't been easy to get Lizzie up to bed, especially while the rest of us were still able to hang, but together, Maeve and I had been able to do it and she'd eventually stopped her tantrum and fallen asleep.

"Worse than a child," Liam declares and as it goes off into a tangent about when she'll learn to handle her liquor, I'm struck again with the memory of another day with James, having a very similar discussion, and I can't forget the feeling of his arms around me.

"Hey," Meg's elbow nudges my side and I look over. "We're all going to play beer pong. Are you coming?"

"Yeah," I smile. "I'm coming,"

She doesn't smile. Instead, she fixes me with a look. Her blue eyes are filled with concern as she tugs on my arm. "Are you honestly sure you're okay?"

"Yeah," I answer, way too casually.

This time, she does smile, but it's just a little sad as she links our arms to pull me into the other room with everyone. "Well, when you're not okay, come find me,"

"I will," I answer softly.

"We just drew names," Freddy's absolutely _beaming_. "Meggie, let's get it done, dream team right here," That explains it.

"Who am I with?" I demand, looking around the room. Lou and Liam are setting up, Dan and Vero are strategizing on the couch, and Maeve's curled up with her glass of wine, which leaves...

"I guess it's you and me," My stomach flutters as James comes up behind me.

"Yep! Together. I mean-" I cut off abruptly.

"Well not-" James says at the same time.

"Totally!" I cringe and James nods awkwardly before wandering off to help Lou and Liam set up the table.

"Well," Meg says. "I'm going guess that has something to do with why you're acting so weird," She pauses. "Not that whatever _that_ was, wasn't weird in itself,"

"I'm actually having a big problem, yes, but it's one that can't be fixed,"

"You're either part of the problem or part of the solution," She responds.

I stare at her. "What?"

"I dunno; my dad says it all the time,"

I laugh. "Come on. Maybe getting me drunk will help,"

Spoiler alert, it doesn't.

* * *

"He said _all that_ ,"

"Shhh," I shove the wine bottle into Meg's mouth to shut her up. She greedily guzzles some down. " _He's across the hall_ ,"

"Sorry," She lowers her voice. "I just-I did not picture James bursting like that,"

" _You knew_?"

"Well, no," She says. "But I know what he's like when he likes a girl and..." She trails off.

"Why didn't you warn me?" I whine.

"I genuinely thought you liked him back and it wouldn't be an issue!" When I don't meet her eyes and tip the wine bottle back, she pounces. "Mother of Merlin, you _not liking_ him isn't the issue! You like him!"

"No! Yes! I don't know!"

"What do you mean, _you don't know_. You either like him or you don't!"

"Fine! Yes! I do like him!" Three days of uncomfortable introspection had gotten me this far. It was after this that I was stuck. "But he's my best friend-"

"I thought I was your best friend!"

I glare at her. "Seriously, we're going to fight about _this_ right now?"

"Ok, continue,"

"The bottom line is I'm shit at relationships and don't want to lose him because of this!"

"Well you have to do something! You can't just stagnate at this awkward spot forever,"

"Stagnate?" I raise my eyebrows.

"My New Year's Resolution last year was to use my Word of the Day Calendar every day and I didn't, so I'm trying to squeeze a year's worth of words into these last few days. August 17,"

I burst into laughter. "So what should I do then?"

"Well I think you have three options," Meg muses. "One, you guys stay like you are now and do nothing and you lose him because it's too uncomfortable to be friends; two, you have a talk and move past it and maybe you stay friends, maybe you don't; or three, you actually date him,"

I blink at her a few times before guzzling a large portion of the bottle. "I repeat. _What should I do_?"

"I mean, there's a simple test," Meg says.

"Oh, is there?" All snark. Sorry Meg; your girl's a little tipsy and a lot sarcastic right now.

"Well, can you imagine your life without him?" She asks.

"That's a terrible test! I can't picture my life without Freddy but that doesn't mean I want to date him!"

Her eyes widen. "I need my phone!"

"We are talking about me right now! And we have already been over this! You cannot break up with Tim over the phone!"

She snatches the wine bottle back from me. "Well that's not fair. You were not this helpful when I needed it."

"Don't _even_ go there!"

She slumps back against the pillows. "Well it's _not_ a terrible test because _I_ _can't_ picture my life without Freddy but _I can_ without Tim, so there!"

I scoot back next to her and reach for the wine. Now _there's_ a piece of information. "Well, at least you know what to do about Tim now,"

"Yeah," She says hollowly, accepting the bottle back. "At least there's that,"

* * *

 _Coming Up Soon: Dan breaks out another great holiday outfit, an interrupted moment, the most overrated holiday of the year (according to Carson)_


	19. nineteen

"Haven't you already worn that skirt?" Freddy asks when I make my way downstairs on New Year's Eve.

Pleasantly buzzed. Meg and I popped a champagne in our room while getting dressed. Nothing he says will get me down.

"So she can't wear it again?" Meg pops her hip behind me and rests her hand on it as she backs me up and I know Freddy didn't hear a word she said as he takes in the tight black and silver sparkly dress she's wearing.

But to his question, "No, that one was silver, this one is gold!" He gives me a look, like he can't believe that's what I'm calling him out on, but it's true. The skirt I'm wearing tonight is very similar to the one I'd worn out with Vero's old Hufflepuff friends, only sparkly gold (sparkles was the only theme us girls had decided upon wearing), but I'd paired it with a black crop top that criss-crossed around my mid-section and strappy black heels today.

We weren't planning on going out anywhere so why not? I'll lose the heels as soon as my feet hurt.

As Meg laughs, Freddy shakes his head and walks away towards the drinks (which we'd taken great care in setting up earlier), muttering under his breath about girls and their clothes.

Perfect timing really, as Dan runs down the stairs, dressed and ready, in a sparkly bow tie and matching tux. Meg and I take one look at each other and burst into laughter. "What?" He cries. "I didn't want to be left out!"

I loop my arms around him and he returns my hug by squeezing tight and lifting me in the air. "Don't ever change."

He lets me go in search of a snack (food, always important), and I look up to see James watching as he talks with Lou. It's the first time our eyes meet in days and it's like the whole room stops around me. Everything fades to white noise in the background; there's no more party, no more friends, just Carson and James.

His hazel eyes are filled with promise and hope, open and expressive as they so often are. But this time it's all directed at me.

I step forward, intent on making my way over to him...only to be pulled back. "Carson!" Lizzie cries excitedly. "We're all doing a shot to kick things off! Let's go,"

"I-" I look back and the moment's broken. James is talking animatedly with Lou about something; hands are flying and they're both laughing.

But he's not looking anywhere near me now.

"Ok," I link my arm with hers, trying to hide my disappointment. "Let's go,"

* * *

With five minutes until midnight, I sneak away from the living room, content to ring in the New Year the same way I always do.

Away from the party, off on my own, with no one to bother me.

New Year's is the most overrated holiday and personally, nothing more so than the countdown to midnight. Honestly, it's just another day.

I've excused myself out of this since realizing my ultra-cynical attitude is not shared by most. New Year's is overrated? Sure, absolutely. Skip the countdown? Carson, that's crazy!

The balcony out back is dark, but thanks to the Warming Charm we'd cast on it earlier, not terribly chilly. Behind me, the low bass of the music is just audible, mixed with the soft noise of the tide hitting the shore.

It's perfect and serene until the door opens.

"Oh," James says. His jaw's a little dropped, like the noise just came out accidentally, and he keeps looking back and forth between staring at me and avoiding eye contact. "Sorry, was just looking for some air,"

"No, um yeah, me too,"

"Did you-"

"You can-"

"I can-"

"Just come out," I cut him off. "It's fine,"

He nods hesitantly, coming out to stand with me, further away than he's ever stood. In all actuality, the distance is only a few inches further, but it feels like miles; the metaphorical barrier is clear. "What brings you outside?"

"I hate New Year's,"

He snorts, as he fights back a laugh. "That's no surprise."

"It's overrated!"

He turns to face me. "No, you hate change,"

It draws the breath out of me. "I-"

"You're all cool and go-with-the-flow with this faux-carefree attitude that's not true at all," It's hard to say he's angry because he's not yelling or even breathing like he does when he is angry, but his tone is different-resigned maybe, or upset-as he takes a step closer to me, crossing that boundary he'd set when he first came out. "You are so fucking careful in everything that you do!"

"What?" I ask breathlessly. He's so close now. I could reach out and his arm, his chest, _his cheek_ would be right there.

"Take a risk," It's practically a whisper because that's all it needs to be, he's _that close_ to me. "On something _meaningful_ ,"

When did his hand get to my hip? The fingers play out, sending a chill up my spine and somehow, I'm even closer to him. I suck in a breath, with great difficulty (Merlin, James, you are making this so _difficult_ ), and then, suddenly-

"Woo!"

James and I jump apart at the noise and now the arms around me are different. I look up into Dan's dark eyes and his beaming smile. A loud pop interrupts my thoughts and I see Vero's got a foaming bottle of champagne in her hands and Freddy's right behind her, popping his own.

"Happy New Year!" Meg cries, throwing her arms around me as soon as Dan lets me go.

I look over; James has tossed his arm around Freddy and is swigging from the bottle of champagne, looking like nothing has just happened between us. "Yeah, happy New Year," I return.

She frowns. "What's wrong?"

I fake a smile. "Nothing to worry about right now; gimme that champagne!"

* * *

 _Deep breaths_ , I remind myself.

It doesn't help; I'm still rooted to this spot in the ground.

But it's now or never. It's our last night here at the beach house and an opportunity like this may never come again.

Resolved, I raise my fist and knock at the door.

"Yeah?" James says, so I ease the door open and rest against it as he looks taken aback.

"Hi," I say softly.

"Hi," He returns, just as quiet.

I take a deep breath. "Can we talk?"

He nods, sliding over in his bed, so it's there that I make my way over to after closing the door. He pats the spot next to him, but I settle closer to the foot of the bed, pretending not to notice the hurt look in his eyes. "So, uh, hi," I start.

"Hi," He says amusedly. "But we've already said this,"

"Right," I nod. "Too true,"

An awkward silence fills the room. There's a loose string on the comforter and I twirl it with my finger, searching for the words to fill the space. "Stop that," James reaches out and taps my hand away. "You're going to unravel the whole thing,"

"Who are you, my dad?"

"Yes," He deadpans. "Go clean your room,"

"I don't think I can date you," I blurt out suddenly. It's probably not the words I would have liked to start this off with, but I can't handle the jokes. I can't just sit here and do this back and forth with him like everything's normal.

James looks back at me, perfectly calm, like we're discussing the weather and not, you know, our potential future. "And why's that?"

"You were right about being careful," I start.

"I sense a but,"

I fight back a noise. "I'm a-and you're a-we're-"

He smiles that half smile of his; his face crinkles and the left side of his mouth comes up and I know a quip is coming. "Was there a sentence in there at all?"

"Be serious, wouldn't you?"

"Always am," He grins. "It's my middle name,"

I roll my eyes at the old joke. "Be _realistic_ ,"

He does somber at that. "I don't see what's unrealistic about this," It's not said meanly or spitefully; he states it like a fact. Like he genuinely can't see the issue.

It almost makes me want to laugh or cry or...or...or something, anything. His patience and understanding continue to amaze me.

"James, I-you are incredible!" I say hollowly. On any other day, he would have preened at that; it's a mark of how serious this is that he doesn't even blink. "And I am a mess!" I rub my fingers over my temples.

He waits patiently, sensing I'm not finished, but reaches out to grab one of my free hand, linking our fingers. It's nice, comforting even, and I'm reminded again of how he's always somehow there when I need him with exactly the right thing-Taco Tuesday, Grandfather's funeral, waiting around for me after Meg and Tim.

What on Earth have I done to deserve this?

I'm not sure, but I know one thing.

"I'm terrible at this! I panic at commitment and get all in my head and you deserve more than that."

"Don't you think I should get to decide what I deserve?" He cocks his head just slightly to the side, challenging me.

"I just-I don't want to hurt you," This is the one time I'll back down from a challenge from him, for normally this would have lead into banter and teasing. But he has to know how serious I am.

"You can't guarantee that you won't" James shrugs. "But you can't guarantee that I won't hurt you either,"

"Super motivational here; glad you don't bring this attitude in the locker room." Alright, that lasted long.

The sarcasm brings a small smile to his face, and I quickly match it with one of my own. "My point was that there are no guarantees, Carson,"

"I know what your point was," I trace a pattern in the comforter. "I do like you, James. I do. More than I've liked, probably anyone,"

"Only probably?" He teases.

"No guarantees," The smile on his face grows, but even as I can feel my own grow, my tone remains quiet and serious. "I can't-I can't jump into dating you-I mean-"

"Could you toe into dating me?" James interrupts what's sure to be a long rant.

"I-what?"

"If you don't-look, Carson, if you had come in here and said you didn't like me and just wanted to be friends, I would have been fine with that, I would have backed off. Hell if you had come in here and told me to stay away from you, I would have done it; it would have been miserable but if that's what you wanted, okay," He reaches for my hand. "But you're sitting here and telling me there's hope-"

"That's not-"

"Carson," He says gently. "I'm not asking you to marry me. I just want you to give us a shot because we're already great and we could be incredible."

His words from the balcony come back to me. _Just give me a chance. Take a risk._ And I realize, I can't...not?

"Ok," I say softly, and it's worth it to see his face light up as he pulls me into his side.

The memory can't even compare to what it's like being actually back in his arms again.

* * *

 **A/N:** Shameless self-promotion for the Oliver/Alicia one-shot (that's totally related to this story but not at all necessary to read to understand anything) I posted if you haven't checked it out yet! It's called Moments Like This and I'd love for you all to check it out if you're interested!

 _Coming Up Soon: Meg is disappointed, Oliver is inducted into the Professional Qudditch Hall of Fame, Carson embarrasses herself_


	20. twenty

"Well, _good morning_ ," Meg's voice rings out as I sneak back into my room the next morning.

"Shut up,"

"This is just so unexpected," She shakes her head as I glare at her. " _Where_ could you have been all night?"

"Megan!"

"Ohh full name!" She's beaming as she sits at the edge of the bed. "Tell me _everything_. Is he good? Everyone says so. I've never really wanted to try myself, but I've always been _so_ curious..." She trails off.

"Nothing happened," I hiss.

She looks at me skeptically. "Nothing?"

"We fell asleep!"

Now it's disappointment in her eyes. " _Nothing_?"

"Nothing!"

She huffs, annoyed. "Well, that's not interesting!"

"Well we're taking things slow! We didn't-"

She squeals in excitement. "Oh, I knew it!"

"Can we like, curb the excitement? You're showing far more enthusiasm about this than _I_ am,"

"That would be typical for just about everything that's not Quidditch or numbers," Meg laughs. "But fine, I promise to be a _normal_ level of excited and will take minimal pictures of your first date to document in the scrapbook,"

I examine her skeptically, before giving up and reaching for a pair of clean leggings. It's the best I'll get from her. "Thank you,"

"You know for you, taking things slow, is practically a boyfriend," She muses.

I hesitate. "Eh, let's not use that word,"

"You are _actually_ hopeless,"

* * *

If you've never been to the Professional Quidditch Hall of Fame before, I highly recommend the trip. My own personal biases aside, there's something for everyone. It's fun and interactive, each room of the museum themed to capture a different part of Quidditch history.

Dad's induction was not the first time our family has been to the museum. Besides attending other inductions, it'd been a spot Dad and Uncle Justin had taken me to visit often as a child.

I've quite literally been lost in the Quidditch Timeline room, which travels through the whole evolution of Quidditch, from its original start on Queerditch Marsh and early broom games to its current happenings. There's a wildly embarrassing picture of me floating around somewhere in one of our houses, circa 2007, wearing a tutu and holding a toy broom standing in front of the Puddlemere section in the Locker Room area.

Inductions and ceremonies at the Hall of Fame take place in the Grand Atrium. It's always decked out for the occasion and tonight is no exception. The stage is set, the chairs are arranged, and all around, everything in the room looks ready for a party where the guest list features Quidditch greats, current players, and team staff, as well as a select few supporters (you've got to be pretty keyed in to get this ticket).

Backstage, my family waits with the three other nominees and their loved ones. Alicia keeps nervously smoothing Colton's hair and Parker's tugging at his tie, but Dad's calm as can be as we wait to be ushered on stage to our seats.

Uncle Justin's standing on the opposite side as we enter, all set to give Dad's introduction speech. He winks at me as we pass and brings his hand up to his forehead, thumb and index finger in the shape of an "L."

Before I can even think about it, my own hand comes up to my forehead; thumb and index finger making the "L" and middle finger pointing straight ahead, bringing the gesture just one leap further. He laughs.

Naturally, that's when the camera clicks and the flash goes off.

That'll be a winner.

Alphabetically, Wood is the last in tonight's cohort, which means we wait as short speeches are made about Paolo Cueva, Cyle Hutchinson, and Igor Smolov before Uncle Justin makes his way to the podium.

"I consider myself pretty lucky," He starts. "Because it's not everybody who gets to do what they love _as a job_ with their best friend. But my best friend is that guy, right over there," He points at Dad and it gets him a chuckle from the audience. "And we spent most of our lives playing the best damn game in the world, as a career," A wild cheer.

He continues, once it settles. "Oliver is everything you could want out of teammate, a Quidditch player, and a Captain. He continues to embody those values today. I'm proud to call him a boss, I was proud to call him a teammate, but I'm most proud to call him a friend."

Alicia's crying as Dad walks over to him and they break out the old bro-hug, the one they'd done after very game when they were still playing. It gets another cheer and more cameras flash.

Then Cueva, Hutchinson, and Smolov are standing with Dad and suddenly, "Ladies and gentleman, I present, the 2022 Class of Professional Quidditch Hall of Fame Inductees," and then we're all standing, clapping along with the crowd. There's whistling and cheering as we're allowed to join Dad in line and he's got one arm around Alicia and the other around me as I tug Erin forward.

"Whoa!" She's beaming, looking around as confetti falls. "This is the coolest!"

It's not quite a Quidditch Cup win, but it's damn near close. "It's-yeah," I'm actually speechless at this moment, watching Dad and everything he's worked for come together in this moment. "Yeah," I repeat, settling for pulling her closer and looking around more.

* * *

"Did I see you give _finger guns_ to Viktor Krum earlier tonight?" Scorpius asks as I approach.

He's standing with two people that are clearly his parents (Merlin, is he the spitting image of his father) and they're surrounded by members of the Weasley family (Granger-Weasley edition) and the main reason I'd come over here, the Potter's.

James stands next to his dad, bringing attention to just how much they look alike, looking _absolutely incredible_ in his No-Maj suit. In fact, all the men are pulling off the No-Maj look tonight, including the Malfoy's, and I thank God, Merlin, Dumbledore, and anyone else that dress robes are currently out of style. James is _rocking_ this suit and the view is much better than any robe could have provided. Whatever workouts he's doing outside of practice is doing those arms good.

But to Scorpius' question. "Finger guns are the _least_ embarrassing hand gesture I've made tonight,"

"Double finger guns!" He cries, sounding like it's Christmas morning and he's opening the gift he's been begging for.

"Oh, just wait," I tell him. "You won't be disappointed,"

"What did you do?" James asks suspiciously.

"Honestly, if you didn't see it, I don't want you to," He only grins mischievously in response.

"That's not a great sign for you, Carson," Ginny warns.

I smile back at him and find him slightly smirking at me as he meets my eyes. "I can handle him,"

Albus snickers. "She certainly does at school,"

That earns him glares from both James and I, but unfortunately for all of us, brings up the least favorite subject for any student. "Speaking of school, Neville said that you'll all be doing Career Meetings after holidays." Ginny smiles. "Are you excited?"

"No," Albus, Scorpius, and I all respond flatly while James merely shrugs.

"Finally!" Rose says simultaneously.

Almost everyone stares at her. "You are your mother's daughter," Ron says.

"And what's wrong with that?" Hermione asks.

"Absolutely nothing," He covers and the rest of us utterly ignore him as he continues to grovel.

"Any ideas what you want to do?" Ginny asks.

"I'm thinking a Healer," Rose says immediately. "Or maybe something in Law,"

"Why not choose something a little harder?" Scorpius asks wryly. "Supreme Mugwump, Head of the Department of Mysteries?"

"Quidditch," James answers, once the laughter subsides. "If that doesn't work, maybe an Auror? Something that's not going to bore me," I fight back a laugh. That's just about the most James answer I've ever heard.

It's clear from Ginny's eye roll that she agrees. "Carson, what about you? Any thoughts?"

I shrug. Truthfully, no, I had no thoughts. Possibly something in banking to continue using my favorite subject, Arithmancy? A future career was always something I'd pushed off until just that-the future. Only now it was creeping up on me quickly. "I'm going to live off Dad's money and be a traveling food critic,"

"Well at least you have a plan," She shoots Albus a look.

"I'm only fifteen!" He whines.

"No time like the present," She smiles brightly.

"Just pick something," Ron tells him. "You can always change it. I moved from the Auror office to George's shop and it's great,"

"Yeah, it's not like it's permanent, like a marriage-oh wait!" James and his dad both laugh and Ginny fights back a grin as I address Albus. "Nope, you're good on that too,"

"All I'm hearing is that I can pretty much do whatever I want and there are no consequences," Al says.

"Now you're getting it!" James beams.

Ginny reaches out and cuffs him on the back of the head. "James!"

"Gin," Harry laughs. "It was a joke," She rounds on him. "But, this was a serious conversation, now, so-" He cuts off with a groan, knowing what he walked into.

James is still grinning. "Of course, it's as serious as-"

This time, I cut him off, knowing exactly where that sentence was headed. "Oh, look, my drink is empty. Think I'm going to head over to the bar,"

"Thank Merlin," Al mutters, looking grateful we weren't about to get another serious pun.

"I'll come with you," James says.

"I was impressed," Harry nods at him. "Your drink was empty for far longer than I'd expected it to ever be at something offering free drinks,"

He shrugs. "Line at the bar was really long when I finished it,"

"That makes more sense,"

* * *

It's surprisingly not awkward-not even a little-being alone with James.

I'd expected worse, at least until we found a groove. Instead he'd shown up for Taco Tuesday earlier in the week and things had been almost...normal? We'd gone to try a new spot, still not settled on any particular one here in London, and ordered food and drinks, as usual. We still laughed and teased and joked just like it was a typical Tuesday.

In fact, the only difference from any of the previous nights had been the soft kiss he bestowed upon me before Apparating away.

Perhaps it said more about me that I didn't notice a difference, but I was unwilling to examine at such a deep level of introspection again. I'd had quite enough of that already this week.

Besides, it didn't matter anymore.

We'd collected our drinks from the bartender and moved quickly away, but instead of merging in with the crowd, we'd ducked off to the side, sneaking off for a private tour of the exhibits.

Which sounds so much more scandalous than it actually is, considering we're laughing and giggling as we point out our favorite players and parts of the museum.

We're such dorks.

We spend a long time in the World Cup room, trading stories about our different experiences (we'd both, it turned out, been to the same ones, but never crossed paths), and then he has to drag me out of the Women in Quidditch room and away from the pair of his Mom's gloves that's encased, after I start poking him repeatedly when I don't think his version of the story about the game she played as a lone Chaser and scored every one of the Harpies goals to secure their playoff berth once the other two were knocked out by Bludgers in the first minute is up to standard.

"If you think you can tell it better," He huffs.

"I could tell one of _my parent's_ Quidditch stories better,"

"Go on then, tell the Wilda Griffiths riot," He challenges.

I immediately launch into the tale, which, frankly, was a poor choice on his part. The story of the disappearance of Griffiths and the subsequent riot between Puddlemere and Harpies fans was an old favorite of my dad and Uncle Justin; in fact, I'm certain at some point, they'd used it as a bedtime story.

"-and so Joscelind was going after the-"

Except then his lips are moving against mine and instead of finishing about how she's attacking Holyhead's Keeper with a right hook, I'm returning the kiss. "Thank Merlin," James mutters, when he pulls away, forehead still resting against mine. "I've finally found a way to shut you up,"

"Goes both ways," I warn.

"I can live with that,"

Yeah, I figured he could.

James presses forward again, closing the small gap between us. As his hand anchors in the back of my hair, I loop my arms around the back of his neck, pulling myself closer to him to deepen the kiss.

James' arm wraps around my waist as he backs us up a few steps and then I feel cool wall against my skin, where the open back of the dress doesn't cover. The shiver up my spine can only be half explained by the wall.

The longer we stand there kissing, the more I think I don't ever want to stop. He presses kisses down my jaw as I move my hands down his shoulders, feeling the muscles jump under my fingers as they move lower.

James reaches a sensitive spot on my neck and I gasp, letting out another shaky breath as he works that same spot a little. "Stop!" I whine, lifting his head off my neck.

He grins down at me. "If you insist,"

"I do," I pout and he kisses it off of me, and we're right back into things; kissing in the empty hall of the Quidditch Hall of Fame with hands moving everywhere and constant attempts to move closer than we already are.

"Now what do we think Dad would think of his little girl with a boy in the hall _tonight_ of all nights?"

* * *

 _Coming Soon: Meg and Tim meet again, Hogwarts gossip, Carson is definitely missing something._


	21. twenty one

James swears and jumps away, running his fingers through his hair, looking completely and utterly panicked,

I merely cock my head to the side slightly and fix Uncle Justin with an exasperated look. "Could you be a little nicer?"

"My girls are too young to embarrass! They don't care what I do. This is fun for me!"

I reach out for James' hand. He still looks a little spooked. "I don't want you to scare him away. Or tell Dad,"

Uncle Justin grins. "Come take a shot with me at the bar and I'll keep it to myself,"

I shrug. "Alright,"

James' jaw drops. "Wait, really?"

"He doesn't really care," I mutter as Uncle Justin leads us to the bar. "He's just giving you shit. Give it right back,"

And he does. He's definitely a little nervous at first, but once the second shot kicks in and he's swirling his tumbler of Ogden's, he's giving as good as he's taking, and laughing along as Uncle Justin teases me.

"Could have at least _introduced us_ to your boyfriend before you go making out with him in the hallway,"

"Boyfriend is such a strong word," I say hesitantly.

"Wow," James says wryly.

"Male friend?" Uncle Justin tries.

"That's worse," I scrunch up my face at him.

"Boy toy?"

"I'll allow that," James nods.

Uncle Justin lights up and I shake my head at James. "You have no idea what you just got yourself into,"

"I have George Weasley as an uncle; I think I can handle it,"

I rub his shoulder. "Aren't you cute,"

"So," Uncle Justin has this shit-eating grin on his face. "Boy toy,"

"Be nice," I say warningly, before he can get any further.

"Fine," He sighs. "Tell me what else is new. How's school? Your other friends?"

"Louis told Maeve he was in love with her on New Year's Eve,"

"No!" Uncle Justin gasps.

"How did you find this out?" James cries.

"Maeve told me about it because she said after the fact Lou was acting _like it never happened_ , so I asked Dominique to be sneaky and get the dirt, and she told me he can't remember any of New Year's!"

"Dominique is the least sneaky person ever!" James protests.

I shrug, and add in a huff, "Well it worked, and we're mad at Lou because he's the worst,"

"I can't imagine Maeve saying that," James muses.

"Of course she didn't!" They both laugh. "She's far too nice for that. Somebody has to hate him for her!"

"Poor Lou,' James laments.

"Poor Maeve!" I correct.

Uncle Justin shakes his head. "Boy Toy's got it right on this one. I feel bad for _anyone_ you're going after,"

* * *

About three hours into the train ride back to Hogwarts, Meg and I are walking back to our compartment from the bathroom when the door to one on our left slides open.

Tim's leaning against the sliding door, looking nervous as he taps his fingers against the window. "Hi," He mutters."

"Hi," Meg returns, just as softly. The only sign she's just as nervous is the stiffness of her body; if I weren't standing right next to her, I wouldn't have even known.

Awkward silence hangs over the three of us. As they stare at each other, I'm torn between slowly walking backwards until I reach the next corridor and being unsure if I should leave Meg in her potential time of need. Is she ready to talk to Tim yet? Maybe I should fake sick, so we have to leave, and she has more time to think.

After at least two minutes of silence, I start preparing to act nauseous when suddenly another head pops out behind Tim's shoulders. "C-Dub!"

Dear Merlin, bless Dave and all that he is.

The moment's been broken. The tension in Meg's shoulders releases and Tim relaxes his hand from clutching at the sliding door.

Dave, in all his blissful, ignorant glory, continues. "Saw you in the paper this morning! Can't believe you gave 3-D Loser to one of the greatest beaters of all time,"

And yes, here we are. Dad had laughed so hard he cried when he saw the picture in the Prophet this morning, featuring me with my hand on my forehead and making a face at Uncle Justin at the induction yesterday, going so far as to figure out how to use the camera on his phone to send Uncle Justin pictures and captions of his own creation. They'd still been going back and forth when we left the platform. "I mean, he's also the guy who fed me cereal out of a solo cup and taught me how to play beer pong when I was four, but sure, we'll go with greatest beater of all time,"

Dave snickers. "I'm not convinced you're a real person,"

"10 fingers, 11 toes, in all my glory," He laughs. "But sorry boys, I really need to steal Meg now. I left my phone back in our compartment and we are too far from Hogwarts for Freddy not to have taken a thousand selfies by now."

"I think you'll be lucky if that's the only thing he's taken a picture of," Meg adds.

I grab her arm as I pull a face. "l don't want a picture of Freddy's junk!"

"Ew! That's so _not_ what I was referring to! I meant, like, the window or James' owl or Dan's weird arm freckle,"

"The idea's in my head now," I declare, tugging her along. "Bye boys,"

"See you!" Dave calls.

"Meg-" Tim tries.

"Bye Dave, bye Tim!" Meg adds. "We'll catch up soon, okay?"

"Okay," Tim agrees, and anything else he might have said is lost on us because I've already pulled her into the next corridor.

"Thank you," She throws her arms around me. "I was not ready to do that,"

"You're welcome! But move! I really am worried about this picture."

* * *

The first day of term finds Meg and I waking up just a bit too late for breakfast and dashing off in separate directions for our first classes of the day-her to Ancient Runes and me to Potions-on entirely empty stomachs.

But luckily, the perks of having a boything (I vehemently refuse to call him boy toy, despite his insistence with being fine with the term, and still haven't quite worked up to boyfriend yet) means that James is waiting outside the dungeon for me, breakfast sandwich in hand. "You're a lifesaver!" I reach for it eagerly.

"Meg oversleep?"

I nod. "And we lost track of time, and I couldn't find my tie, and she had to real-quick fix her brows. It was rough up there this morning,"

James laughs. "Sounds like it. It's alright, breakfast was weird too,"

"Why?" I ask, perplexed.

He shrugs. "Dunno. Everybody just seemed off,"

But before I can ask anything else, Professor Dupont is ushering us into class to begin the lesson.

And suddenly, I know _exactly_ what he means.

Since leaving for winter break, it seems like Kylie's dislike has only escalated; she alternates between trying to glare me into an early grave and ignoring us completely.

"Do you think it's gotten worse?" I ask Lou and Freddy, when she goes to get an ingredient, willing to temporarily forget my own current grudge against Lou in favor of answers.

Freddy shrugs, concentrating on slicing daisy roots in even, two-inch slices. "Maybe,"

"Come off it," Lou says. "You guys don't have to do this,"

"Do what?" I look over at him, pausing my stirring.

He's grinning at the two of us. "I mean..." He trails off.

I look at Freddy. "Did I miss something at breakfast?"

Freddy shrugs. "James dyed Al's hair red and gold,"

I can't _believe_ he didn't tell me. "Stripes or two-tone?"

"Two-tone,"

"Ugh, stripes would have been _so_ much better!"

"Come on, seriously!" Lou cries.

"If you're not going to tell us why you're being so weird, then we're going to find something else to talk about," I say reasonably. Merlin, James was right; people are _weird_ today. Must be a full moon or something.

"Fine," Lou grumbles. "But, you know, if you wanted to talk about something, _anything_ really, I'd be okay with that,"

Freddy and I exchange a look again. "Ok, weirdo," He says, before launchinginto the story of Al's hair.

* * *

The weirdness continues for two more days (two more _full days_ , that is, of thinly-veiled statements hinting at something more followed by knowing smiles, condescending nods, and suspicious looks at my own confused responses) before everything finally culminates at Quidditch practice.

Even the frigid January weather won't stop James from assigning laps (all the more reason, he'd actually claimed, so you all get nice and warmed up), so Freddy, Fitz, Coop, and I are at our usual spot, bringing up the rear as we all make our way around the pitch.

"This is absurd!" Coop moans.

"Do you think he's angry?" Fitz asks.

"Oh, for sure," Coop says, giving Freddy an appraising look.

"What's he got to be angry about?" I ask, running through things in my mind. Sure, Al had tried to get back at him for the hair thing, but James had mostly foiled him in time and ended up with only a little pie in the face; they'd both ended up laughing about it.

Coop points over at me with his thumb as he looks at Fitz. "So oblivious, this one, eh?"

Fitz nods. "I'm just mad you didn't tell _us._ I thought we were running buddies, guys!" He cries out the last part dramatically and Freddy and I give him a weird look.

"Tell you what?" Freddy asks tersely.

Fitz and Coop exchange an exasperated look, but finally, Coop says, "That you're dating,"

Abruptly, I stop running and Freddy trips over his own feet. " _Excuse_ me?"

"No!" He says at the same time. "Hell no! No!"

The four of us stand clustered in a circle, as Coop and Fitz stop running as well, looks of pure shock on their faces. "But-"

"Where would you have even gotten that idea from?" I cry.

"I heard it in Astronomy yesterday." Fitz responds. "Someone said they saw you guys leaving the Astronomy Tower before we got to class last night,"

"I've never even _been_ to the Astronomy Tower!" I protest.

"I have to wash my brain out," Freddy mutters, burying his face in his hands.

"Come on," Coop throws his hand in my direction. "She's not _that_ bad!"

"Hey!" I complain. "Not _that_ _bad_?"

"Well I mean," He tries to backtrack.

"Carson's like my sister!" Freddy argues, ignoring him completely. "She-nope, can't do it,"

His point is totally valid. Any thought of actually dating Freddy had never occurred to me, from Day 1 on my back porch shooting the shit with him and our dads.

"It's been all over school!" Fitz adds gently.

"But where did it come from?" I ask.

Silence overcomes us for a moment as we think and then, "So you guys really aren't dating?" Coop asks.

"Cooper!" Freddy cries as I reach out and smack our Keeper's bicep.

"Why aren't you running?" Of course, this is when James decides to jump in.

"We were settling an issue," I stare Coop down. James looks at us all suspiciously.

"Freddy and Carson are not dating," Freddy gags at Coop's words "And it's a never in a million years kind of thing, apparently,"

"This is why everyone's been so weird," I circle my hand in a general motion and watch as understanding draws over James' face.

"What's going on?" Scotty and Maddy stop at the huddle, the former peering in with interest, the latter looking happy to stop running. I knew she was secretly one of us.

"Freddy and Carson aren't dating," Fitz says.

"Oh, I _knew_ that wasn't right!" Maddy says happily. "I never saw you two together!"

"Thank you!" Freddy lifts her into a hug. "Finally, someone with sense,"

"Really?" Scott asks. "I thought they'd be cute."

"It'd be a cute friendship thing!" Fitz agrees.

"I'm not dating Freddy!" I snap.

"Yeah, you know, I think I'm Team Freddy now!" Coop nods along with Fitz.

"There is no Team Freddy!" I cry and that sends all of them into chaos, talking amongst themselves about who I should be dating.

"I'm going to throw up," Freddy mutters.

"What is happening?" James looks around.

"You are _crazy_!" Maddy glares at Coop.

"Look at them!" He gestures to us.

"There is no Team Freddy because I'm dating James!" I burst out and it silences them all.

"Smooth," James nods at me.

"Can practice be over?" I ask.

"You haven't even finished your laps!"

Coop snickers. "Well, at least it's nice to know nothing will change,"

* * *

"-I am hurt," Freddy's shaking James' shoulders when I exit the locker room, freshly showered after practice. "and offended-"

"What's going on?" I interrupt.

"You!" He cries, grabbing my shoulders. "I am hurt and offended that you two did not tell me, _your best friend_ , that you were dating!"

To say James had been wildly disappointed with this practice would have been an understatement, and it was all because of that-every drill was interrupted with distracted comments about the two of us. James had gotten so frustrated he'd called off practice early, with a furious promise that we'd all pay for it during Sunday's practice, but no one seemed to care as they happily trotted off to shower. I'd stuck around, giving him a few extra minutes, to get him to relax, and by the time we'd trudged along, it was him reassuring me that our Quidditch team wouldn't tell anyone about the two of us.

But that does bring us to another issue. While he's convinced me that the team won't mention anything about us until we're ready, there is another group of people we should tell, especially considering one of them already knows.

"We weren't really telling anyone," I say apologetically.

"But I'm not _anyone_!" Freddy protests. "I'm your _best friend_!"

James and I exchange a look. Maybe it's for the best we tell them all now. We hadn't thought of how not telling our friends would affect things between us all. "Come on." I tug Freddy along back toward the castle, knowing James will follow. "We'll talk upstairs,"

Freddy pouts the entire walk up to the Common Room, but a smile grows on his face as he realizes he still knows something the rest of our friends don't. I don't have the heart to tell him that Meg was actually the first to know, just by sheer luck on her part, and anyway, he's so excited about it that he rushes over to our usual area of the Common Room before James and I can make our way over as soon as the Fat Lady opens the portrait hole.

"Freddy!" James calls, like he's trying to call back a young child or a puppy.

Freddy sighs and returns to pouting, throwing himself into the open chair next to Meg. She reaches over, rubbing his arm. "You ok, hun?"

"No," He glares at us.

"Bring it down a few levels," I return the look. James and I are still standing, facing everyone. "We're about to do it,"

Meg sits up taller. "We are?"

"You knew?" Freddy cries.

"Well, yeah, Carson didn't come back to our room that last night at the beach, the dirty-"

I cut her off with a glare. "Don't even finish that,"

"Yep, regretted it immediately," She's still grinning.

"What's going on?" Lou asks.

"Are you guys..." Dan trails off, looking between James and I, clearly a step ahead of our Head Boy.

"Yeah," I nod. "James and I are together,"

"Holy shit!" Liam knocks his ink pot all over the essay he'd been working on. "Shit!" He repeats, definitely for a different reason. "You guys!" He grins excitedly, ignoring the spill, in favor of our announcement.

"Aw!" Dan beams, clapping his hands over his heart. "This is so great!"

I give him a look. "You don't think that was too much?"

"You're lucky I didn't hug you!"

I pull a face back at him. "No, we're good on that,"

"How long has this been happening?" Lou looks betrayed.

"A week and a half?" James shrugs over at me.

"You should probably get that date, bro," Liam advises.

"Think I'm probably in the clear on this one," James disagrees.

"C-Dub doesn't strike me as someone who really gets into anniversaries," Meg agrees.

"She's never had one to get into!" Liam protests.

"Still right here," I wave my hand around.

"Listen," James cuts everyone off, just as they begin to argue about potential anniversary issues. "We're taking things pretty day by day, so we're not really...telling people. We just-thought we'd put it out to you guys and let you know."

"Clear things up," I add. "Since I'm _not_ dating Freddy!"

Lou swears loud enough for a group of Second Years to look over at him fearfully. "I lost 5 Galleons on that!"

I cackle as James and I finally settle on the open couch. Not quite enough for what he's done to Maeve, but that's a start. "Good!"

* * *

 _Coming Up Soon: An invitation, an offer, a support system, and a dumb boy (or maybe two)_


	22. twenty two

"What is _that_?" Liam points, interrupting a perfectly good pancake breakfast.

"What?" Lou asks, mouth full, before looking up and choking. "Bloody hell, what _is_ that?"

James, Freddy, Meg, and I pause our conversation about whether or not Meg should apply to a job she's wildly unqualified for (James and Freddy say it can't hurt to try; I'm in the camp of focusing her time on things that may be a little more attainable) to follow Liam's point and then, for a moment, I'm the one choking. "Shit!"

An elegant, white swan is floating through the air toward us with the morning mail, sticking out like a sore thumb among the mostly brown and much smaller owls soaring down to their owners at the four tables among the Great Hall.

The swan finally settles on the table in front of me, folding its large white wings in more, and lifting its neck haughtily as it presents a crisp, white envelope to me.

Quite frankly, the presence of the swan tells me everything I need to know.

My mother is getting married again.

Gingerly, I reach out for the envelope; these swans Ratchel insists on sending are not exactly known for their even-temperament. No injuries are obtained and after sniffing my plate and finding nothing of interest, the swan turns in a huff and takes off again in flight.

"Is this some weird, American thing?" Dan looks between my hands, clutching the envelope so tightly my fingers are white, and where the swan is soaring through a bunch of owls, which all squawk loudly in protest as its wings shove them all to the side.

"No," I sigh, shoving the invitation deep into my bag without looking at it. "This is a weird, my mother thing,"

When I pointedly avoid James' eyes in favor of returning to my pancakes, he settles for exchanging a look with Freddy and Louis. "I see," Lou says finally, sighing in frustration when I don't even acknowledge him and instead ask Meg to pass the syrup. He'd finally caught on to the fact that I'm not happy with him. Freddy had made a comment at dinner last night that normally would have had the two of us giving him shit about it all evening, but instead I'd merely smiled and laughed at Freddy. Lou had turned to James in outrage, while James had squirmed in his seat uncomfortably, unwilling to get in the middle, but was luckily saved by the arrival of Meg, who loudly announced her displeasure with her new Muggle Studies group.

Nevertheless, Lou spent the rest of the evening trying to get me to converse more than was necessary with him, to very little success, and attempting again this morning with renewed vigor and annoyed, bitten-back groans as I continue to chat with everyone but him.

It's been my secret petty pleasure to find him so frustrated by this all.

My pettiness in ignoring Lou serves as a great distraction throughout the day, until James leads me to the kitchens for our weekly Taco Tuesday date (it feels safe calling them a date now, though that thought had led to some questions about all our previous weeks that I'd resolutely pushed away in favor of kissing James in the abandoned corridor), which is when he sneakily brings the topic of the envelope back up.

"So did you open the invite yet?" Ok, may be not so sneakily, but I'm definitely caught off guard.

I scowl. "No,"

He smiles pleasantly. "Shall we do it?"

"What's the point?" I reply bitterly, reaching for take the offered margarita. "We already know what it says."

"I mean, I think there are a _few_ details you're missing,"

"Ugh," I groan, smashing my head against the table and ignoring James' concerned cry. "You're totally going to make me go, aren't you?"

"Yep,"

I lift my head, but leave my chin resting on the table to whine at him. "I thought when I moved here I wouldn't have to see her anymore,"

"Do you think that was a little ambitious?" James asks.

"I'd hoped it wasn't!"

"She's your mother," James says gently.

"She is distant and unfriendly and treats having a child the same way she treats everything else in life-convenient when it is for her,"

It's hard to say who's more taken aback by the words-him or me. I can feel my eyes widen in shock as I stare back at him and we both know I hadn't meant to share nearly that much. James stares back with a similar expression-eyes blinking repeatedly as he processes and mouth opening and closing multiple times as he silently fails to start multiple responses.

"Ok, wow," He finally says, and I glare in response. "I wasn't finished! I was just surprised! That was a lot of actual information for you to share at one time,"

"It's all her fault! She has me flustered and caught me off-guard," I scowl.

A gentle smile flickers across James' face. "Is sharing with me such a bad thing?"

Another scowl. "Stop trying to trick me, you jerk!"

He laughs. "Couldn't help it,"

I take a sip of the marg in front of me, trying to gather my thoughts. "It's not you, you know that, right?" The sense of relief that runs through me when he nods is unfamiliar; I'd never cared before, friend or otherwise, if someone understood how unwilling I was to talk about my relationship with my mother. But as with many things, James is different.

His continued support means the world to me but I'm not ready to drag up those issues.

Instead of pressing further, James nudges the queso closer to me. "Come on, open the invite. You'll feel better just getting it over with," And I suppose he's right about that, so I dig it out of my bag. "I'll even come to the wedding with you, if you want,"

"You'd do that?" I look up at him, ignoring the paper cut I'd given myself when abruptly stopping sliding my finger under the envelope flap at his words.

The look he gives me in return is a little funny-part exasperation and part fondness-but he nods all the same. "Of course,"

"Ok, but just remember when we go, _you offered_ to come with me,"

He laughs, the fondness (Merlin, why does he have to look at me like that; this meal is cheesy enough, James) clear in his eyes. "I think I can handle it,"

"Your confidence would be inspiring if I didn't know better. Hold onto it,"

* * *

"Ok, today's the day," Meg runs down the steps into the Entrance Hall, just a little too fast. She is, luckily, caught by Scorpius, who along with Albus, had stopped James, Louis, Maeve, and I on our way inside the castle to ask the former two a Care of Magical Creatures question.

"What day?" James asks, looking away from his brother, who promptly rolls his eyes. In fairness to Al, this discussion had been very unfocused since we had all gathered.

"I'm breaking up with Tim,"

"What?" Lou asks. "Since when did you decide to do that?"

Maeve and I, who have been waiting for this since Meg told us she was planning on doing this when we all went to the bathroom together on break first day of term nearly _two weeks ago_ and have thus been prepared for this moment ever since, reach into our bags. "Are you sure you're okay? Do you need anything? I have Honeyduke's chocolate, Every Flavor Beans, Ice Mice, Fizzing Whizzbees, Cauldron cakes..." Maeve lists, pulling each one out of her bag.

"I have whiskey," I pull a flask out of mine.

"Carson!" Maeve cries, through our friends' laughter.

"That's the one, gimme," Meg reaches at the same time.

"Have you just been carrying that around?" Albus asks, in disbelief.

"What else was I supposed to do with it?" I oblige Meg's request and hand her the flask as Maeve looks pointedly in the opposite direction, clearly adopting a "if I don't see it, it's not happening" policy for this one indiscretion.

Al's mouth opens and closes like a fish. "I suppose that's a good point,"

Meg takes a sip of the flask and nods confidently. "Ok, I'm ready." She hands it back to me, then hesitates. "Actually, I want that back," I laugh as I pass it back to her. "Alright, see you all later," She moves around us, making her way further inside the castle.

"Should we be going to the kitchens now?" Lou asks, clearly thinking of the last time Meg had talked with Tim.

"Seems like a safe idea," James agrees.

"I'll find Vero and Lizzie and meet you guys at the Tower," Maeve ducks off toward the Great Hall, certainly a good spot to start.

As soon as she's out of earshot and Albus and Scorpius leave for the library, Louis lets out a frustrated growl as he, James, and I begin our trek to the kitchens. "She's been acting weird ever since we came back, but she won't tell me what's wrong. And something is definitely wrong!"

"You don't deserve to know, asshole," It's out before I even know I'm saying.

"Carson," James says warningly.

"So I _did_ do something!" Lou cries. "Is this why _you've_ been mad at me?"

He is ignored by both James and me. "We agreed we wouldn't get in the middle of this," James says.

"You know too?" Lou tries.

"No! You agreed, and I gave a non-committal hum!" I ignore him to respond to James.

"What happened?" Lou cries again, interrupting us.

At this, James and I stop our back and forth in favor of exchanging a look. We'd both conceded that each one of us had good points for the argument we'd had about this issue, but ultimately I'd admitted he was right; it was Maeve and Lou's to talk out.

"It's not for us to say," James says finally.

"But she'll talk to you about it!" Lou sounds distressed as he rubs his temples. "She'll talk to you two about it and she won't say anything, not a single thing, about it me,"

When I look over at him, he looks different than usual. The brightness in his face is dull and flat. Everything about him just seems...less. It's definitely breaking him up inside.

"Look, I'll talk to her," I say finally and Lou looks up to meet my eyes. "But you'll be better off if you don't push her. Just let things be and see how they work out,"

"Worked for me didn't it?" James says cheerfully.

Lou elbows him. "Yeah, only took you six months to get the girl,"

James returns the elbow to the gut. "Well you've already been waiting two years, so what's another six months?"

* * *

"You need to relax a little," James holds my shoulders down, stopping my anxious bouncing in place.

"How do you expect me to relax at a time like this?" I cry, fixing him with a glare.

"Because I have a practice to run!" He shakes his broom to demonstrate and around us, the rest of the team laughs.

"Meg _needs_ me,"

"We haven't seen her _in hours_!" James says.

"Exactly!" Now, he catches my point.

"Wait, what?" Freddy asks, looking between the two of us.

James continues, ignoring him. "We can't-she'll still need you when we finish in a couple hours."

My eyes narrow as I stare him down and he meets my gaze coolly.

"Their first fight," Coop says excitedly.

"No way!" Fitz protests. "This was just some weird thing about one of their friends."

" _Weird thing_? It was more than a-"

"LAPS!" James bellows, before I can get off on what's sure to be a long tangent about Meg's break-up, how she'd been missing for hours since she left us after Herbology, and how I'd been worried sick about her, wanting to skip practice to wait for her to come back, only for James to carry me out of the Common Room.

It's the first time he doesn't immediately lead us all, waiting for Freddy, Coop, Fitz, and I to start running before he starts off at his usual pace, jogging ahead to catch up with Scotty once he's sure that we'll all actually do the laps.

"Oi!" Freddy pokes my arm as we're moving along. "What happened to Meg?"

"What?" I huff, annoyed for a moment, until the question registers. "Where the _hell_ were you today? Meg went to break up with Tim _four hours ago_ and hasn't been seen since!

Freddy stops abruptly. "What?"

"Keep moving, James is already pissed because I said I was going to skip practice to wait for her," I side-eye where James is running ahead of us.

Freddy, reluctantly, starts running again. "Is-is she okay?"

"Are you fucking-she hasn't been seen in four fucking hours!"

"That was a poor decision, mate," Fitz adds wisely, nodding to Freddy.

"Cheers," Freddy nods sarcastically.

"She left, with my flask, _by the way_ , and she hasn't been seen since!" My rapidly increasing concern for Meg is starting to manifest as anger, more worried that something has happened as we creep closer to fiver hours missing.

"She probably just wanted a little time to herself to process everything," Coop suggests. "That's a thing girls like, right?"

I glare and Freddy shrugs, beating me to an answer. "Exactly! She knew you'd ambush her as soon as she got back and she wanted a quiet minute to herself! Did you check the Map?"

"No," I scowl. "Al borrowed it. James said if she was still missing after practice, _then_ he would go get it back," That had been a _strong_ point of contention ("Our best friend is _missing_! How can you be so cavalier?" I'd cried, only for him to respond, "We have to _go_ , Carson!" as he got more aggravated about my unwillingness to get ready for practice.)

"I'm sure she's fine," Freddy soothes. "Besides, we have more important things to worry about,"

"Like what?" Fitz asks hesitantly, looking over at me worriedly.

"Like," Freddy says, like he's planning this all out in his head. "Like, okay, so she breaks up with Tim today. When do I say something? Tonight? Or would it be better to wait until tomorrow and really do something up big?"

I stare at him. "You can't say anything,"

He stares back. "Well, when can I?"

"Not for like, _weeks_ at least, maybe a few months,"

" _Months_?" Freddy cries.

"I don't know! It depends on how long it takes her to get over him!"

"Aghhh!" He lets out a strangled cry.

"You guys have so much drama," Coop's hands are covering his mouth, hiding a grin. "I love it!"

" _When_ did you start liking Meg?" Fitz asks, sounding a bit put out that Freddy, who frequently claims that Fitz-his-mini-me should be telling him everything, didn't tell share this bit of news.

"When did he start or when did he realize?" I tease. "Because those are two different questions."

Fitz fixes Freddy with a glare, who then answers, "September, ok, I realized in September,"

A loud, excited gasp from Coop and a cry of outrage from Fitz. "You've liked her since September and you're only just now telling me? We're supposed to be Bludger Bros!"

"Bludger Bros?" Coop repeats skeptically.

I snicker over him. "He's definitely liked her for longer than that. He only realized then because I pointed it out to him,"

"She knew?" Fitz cries.

"You knew, and you didn't tell us?" Coop protests at the same time.

"Yeah, because I can keep a secret," I brag pointedly, looking at Freddy, who had come to last practice and immediately spilled the details of his cousin, Rose's, break up, despite her explicit instructions not to tell James for (rightful) fear that he would go on a tear after the poor kid.

"Oh, can you, Miss I'm-Dating-James-Not-Freddy?" Coop snorts.

"Fuck you," I respond pleasantly. "That was different,"

Freddy, who had shivered at just the mention of that conversation, nods in agreement. "Very necessary to clear up,"

Fitz snickers. "Yeah, and now we know why,"

"Why is it always you four?" James shouts, from across the pitch, where he, Scott, and Maddy have already finished running laps. "Finish up; get moving!"

"You will not make me love running!" I call back. "You will not change that about me!"

The boys around me all laugh as we finish our final lap and James has his head buried into his hands as we meet up with them. "You're impossible," He says.

I smile sweetly back at him. "Get new material."

"Get in the air!"

* * *

 _Coming Up Soon: Girls Night, the Morning After, Carson attempts to figure out her future during her career meeting_


	23. twenty three

"You're alive!" I throw my arms around Meg as James, Freddy, and I round a corner and see her walking up a flight of stairs toward Gryffindor Tower.

"You smell terrible!" She wrinkles her nose, pulling away.

"I didn't shower after practice,"

"She didn't let any of us shower after practice," James adds dryly.

Meg pulls a face. Her eyes are a little puffy and her cheeks are flushed, but she looks like the weight that's been hanging over her shoulders since we came back to school has been lifted. "Ugh, why?"

"Um, I don't know if you realized how long you were _missing, Megan_ , but it's been over 7 hours since we've seen you! _Forgive me_ for being concerned!"

She looks down. "I'm sorry,"

"Is everything okay, Meg?" Freddy asks. "He didn't do anything to you, right?" James' gaze sharpens as he looks over at her.

"What? No," She assures him. "I just wanted some time alone afterwards, process things a little, you know?"

"Ugh, nobody tell Coop he was right," I groan.

"Oh, Merlin no," James pulls a face. "I need his broom to be able to get off the ground still,"

"Listen to you," Meg teases, which is how I know she's okay.

So I grin at her, grab her hand, and pull her towards the Common Room. "Come on, I told them to make sure they had food for you!"

"You really think there's still any left?" Freddy asks, as he and James catch up.

"A threat was made before I left that there was to be copious amounts of food at all times, under no uncertain circumstances, just in case Meg returned, so there'd better be!"

Freddy shrugs. "Well, at least I don't have to go to the kitchen for a post-practice snack,"

"Who said I was going to share with you?" Meg counters.

Freddy's mouth opens and closes a few times, and then he hesitantly adds, "Please?"

"No cookie dough," She says.

Freddy slings his arm around her shoulders. "Deal,"

* * *

"Carson!" Meg whines, waving her glass around. "I need more wine!"

I oblige her request with a flick of my wand, sending the bottle to refill her glass and then top off my own. She beams in response and then allows Lizzie to return to painting her nails, which in turn allows me to really study her for the first time since her return.

For someone who agonized over this decision and then later, over what the actual best way to break up with someone would be, Meg is handling this super well. We'd arrived back to the Common Room and she'd sat with everyone for a while, eating all the food they'd kept slipping down to the kitchens for and reassuring everyone she was alright (and that no one had tried to murder her in the hours she was gone). At her fourth dig about how James, Freddy, and I needed to shower, we'd retreated to dorms for the night, and while Maeve, Lizzie, Vero, and Meg had set up another spread in mine and Meg's dorm, I'd gotten my (apparently much needed) shower.

The wine had been stolen from my house before I'd left, in anticipation of this moment, and bottles had been opened the minute I'd stepped back into the main dorm room. Since we've gotten up here though, Meg's been nothing but upbeat, giggling with Lizzie over magazines, and laughing with Vero about foods.

In fact, the quietest of us all is Maeve, who's tucked on my bed right now, with her knees up to her chest, watching patiently, and looking uncharacteristically morose. She gives me a tight smile as I lean against her comfortingly, and laughs at all the right times, but for the most part, her face is settled on glum.

Meg's happy attitude lasts until Vero throws her a sweatshirt from the trunk at the foot of her bed, when she suddenly bursts into tears.

"Vero!" Lizzie hisses, instantly, pulling Meg into a hug.

"Oh dear," Vero grimaces. "That was his, wasn't it?"

I nod, as Maeve and I move forward on my bed, ready to jump in if necessary. There was no way for her to know; the sweatshirt was pretty plain, just black with a small orange logo-it could have been from anywhere. _I_ wouldn't have known if Meg hadn't told me that Tim gave it to her the same night they became official back in Fifth Year, pulling it off during their walk around the grounds and handing it over to her. "Meggie?" I ask gently.

"I'm okay," She responds, through subsiding tears.

"No, you're not," Lizzie rubs her back.

Meg takes a few shaky breaths and when she looks up, her eyes are still leaking tears, her nose and cheeks are red and puffy, and she looks miserable for the first time tonight. "What if I made a mistake? What if-Tim was _incredible_! Did I-Did I just totally screw up?"

"Meg, _no_!" I shake my head.

"It's totally normal to feel that way," Vero adds gently. "I spent weeks wondering what I could have done better after Lycus and I broke up,"

"Opposite of helpful!" Lizzie snaps.

"I wasn't finished!" Vero glares at her and then turns back to Meg. "Meg, my point was, that sometimes things just don't work out! And I've realized now, that if we were still together, we'd be apart and miserable. Tim _is_ great, but that doesn't mean he's the one for you! And if he is, then you'll find your way back to each other!"

She's covered it pretty well and we all wait in anticipation for Meg to respond. "He was talking marriage," She responds finally. "And kids, and _a house_ , and-and-and a joint checking account! And then there was the..." She trails off, gesturing her hand through the air, but we all know she means the pregnancy scare. "And it hit me all at once, like _this is it_! I'm going to be with him forever and we're going to have to get married and have perfect little babies in our perfect house paid for with our _joint checking account_ ," I stifle a laugh because I know she won't appreciate it, but how she's talking is just _too funny_ right now. "Like, that was just so much to think about, on top of graduation, and jobs, and..." She trails off.

"Meg, you don't have to feel guilty," I tell her, when it's clear that she's not going to pick up again. "Did you tell him all this?"

She nods. "Yeah. He-he said we can slow down, but I just-we talked, we're in different places, you know?"

"Then, V's right; if it's meant to be, then you guys will figure things out later on down the line when you're in the same place," I smile gently at her, thinking about a certain friend of ours.

"Or maybe he's not right for you at all," Lizzie adds. "And this is all happened so Prince Charming could come sweep you off your feet,"

Meg giggles. "Yes, he'll just fly right in and declare his love for me,"

I look over at the door hesitantly, almost expecting Freddy to be there at her words.

"Louis told me he loves me," Maeve blurts out.

" _What_?" Vero howls.

"How could you let me blather on like this when you've just been holding that in?" Meg cries.

"When?" Lizzie adds.

"New Year's Eve," Maeve says quietly.

"What did _you_ say?" Vero asks.

"Nothing," Maeve responds, then corrects herself. "Well, I told him that we should talk in the morning,"

" _Why_?" Lizzie wails dramatically.

Maeve opens her mouth and makes a choked off noise, so I continue for her. "Because the asshole was blacked out and doesn't remember anything,"

Lizzie gasps, Meg glares at the air in front of her, and Vero spits out a word that I laugh at and makes Maeve's eyes widen. "Well, have you talked to him since?" Vero asks, after taking a breath

Maeve shakes her head. "I don't want to make things weird,"

"I think they already are," Meg says.

"He definitely thinks so," I add.

"He noticed?" Maeve bites her lip.

I nod, sympathetically. "He's, um, a little upset, but very confused,"

"Oh no!"

"No, this is good!" Meg says encouragingly "Now you can sit down and talk with him and everything will be-"

"I don't want to talk with him!" Maeve vehemently shakes her head.

Lizzie's brow is furrowed as our eyes met, both of us looking confused, and she's the one to ask, "Why not?"

"Because he obviously didn't mean it!"

"Maeve," I wrap an arm around her and squeeze tightly as she leans into me. "I've seen how broken up he is about this and I really think you should talk to him,"

"I mean, if _Carson_ thinks you should talk to him..." Vero snickers.

"Hey!" I protest.

"A drunk mind speaks sober thoughts," Meg adds. "Or something like that,"

Maeve giggles and Vero comes over to join us on my bed with a fresh bottle of wine. "Come on, let's drink some more and it can be your turn to blackout,"

"We have classes tomorrow," Maeve gasps.

Vero and I exchange a look. "Go on, pour her another glass," I nod and Vero grins obligingly. Maeve bits her lip hesitantly, but then drowns her glass in one go, before holding out for another fill and we all cheer triumphantly.

At least half of us are going to be hella miserable tomorrow but tonight it's totally worth it to see Meg and Maeve with smiles on their faces.

* * *

"What are you doing here?" James asks sleepily, as I slip into his bed beside him.

"I got kicked out of my bed by Maeve and Vero," I whisper back.

"That was rude of them," James is careful to keep his voice just as low, both of us conscious of our sleeping friends surrounding him in the dorm.

I nod in agreement as he pulls me closer. "Banitch-banished from my own bed,"

James grins. "How dare they send you to me when you're tipsy and cuddly and I'm not awake enough to do anything?" I bury my face in his chest to hide my laugh and James' palm spreads out on my back. "How's Meg?" He asks.

"She's okay," I trace a pattern into his bare chest. "She's-she will be, at least, she's a little scared, I think, but..."

"She knows she was right deep down," James finishes.

"Yeah," I say softly, and then, after a beat. "Maeve's a mess,"

"Is she going to talk to Lou, finally?"

"I-I don't know" It's the honest truth. "I'm just not sure she actually wants to? Like it hurt her enough for him to tell her he loved her and then not remember any of it, but I think she's more terrified that he'll tell her he didn't mean any of it,"

When James shakes his head, it moves the whole bed. "How could she even think that? He's been in love with her for-for years it seems like,"

I shrug, snuggling in closer to his warmth. The girls hadn't even let me grab an extra layer of clothing before kicking me out and now that the mild drunken haze is starting to wear off, this shorts and t-shirt pajamas outfit isn't cutting it. "I guess we'll see what she does,"

James kisses my forehead. "There's a sweatshirt on the floor right there if you want to grab it before I accidentally cuddle you in my sleep,"

"Yes, score,"

* * *

In the morning, James wakes up entirely too early to go shower, leaving me cold and alone in his bed. I grumble and pout at him unhappily until he kisses it off of me, but he still walks away and I bury my face back into the pillow, content to throw my hair in a pony tail if it looks _that bad_ when I actually get out of bed later.

The curtains open again and the bed bounces a little as the body settles next to me again. I roll back over and drape my arm across the chest. "You're back already?"

"Err," Louis hesitates.

"What are you doing here?" I remove my arm from his chest, but don't move away-he's warm and I'm both cold and bitter.

"I needed to talk to you," He says urgently.

"What could you possibly need to talk to me about that couldn't wait until we were both dressed?"

"I heard you tell James I told Maeve I was in love with her!"

Shit. Shit shit shit. "You were supposed to be asleep!" I hiss.

"You woke me up when you came in!"

Fuck. "It's rude to eavesdrop," I snap.

"Now, I know why you wouldn't tell me," Lou ignores me.

Well, we're obviously talking about this. "Yeah, so what are you going to do about it?" I challenge him.

"I-what?"

"She thinks you didn't mean any of it. She thinks you were just talking shit out of your ass while blacked out. _She thinks_ it's not worth talking about it with you because she already knows what's going to happen next,"

The bed hangings open again before either of us can speak again and then Freddy's beaming down at us. "A Carson cuddle party? Where's my invitation?"

"Freddy, no!" Lou cries, but Freddy's climbing over both of us to lie between me and the wall.

"Hey guys," He throws an arm over my waist. "What are we talking about?"

I shrug. "Dunno. Anything important, Lou?" I arch an eyebrow at him, staring him down.

He ignores my gaze and changes the subject, asking Freddy what he thinks about the Arrows chance of beating Holyhead this week and when James finally does get out of the shower to find the three of us in a pile of limbs, talking Quidditch, he immediately turns back around to finish getting dressed in the bathroom.

Funny, that's the first time I've seen him turn his back on Quidditch.

* * *

Professor Longbottom smiles pleasantly at me from across his desk, offering a platter of cheese. I take a cube of the aged gouda (if I ever turn down free food, please send me to St. Mungo's for the full medical work-up, thanks), and return his smile hesitantly,

With the last name of Wood, I'm the last of my friends to go for these career meetings Professor Longbottom has been holding for us this week. Although technically, just by a little for Freddy and Lou, who are sitting in the hallway waiting for me, since we all ditched Potions this morning together for this.

James had gone earlier in the week and met us in Transfiguration with an easy grin on his face, reassuring me that "it's just a simple meeting with Neville." Which, yeah, sure, for the guy who's known both his first and second career choices since he was old enough to walk and makes great grades with minimal effort, this was probably an easy chat with a professor he's _on first name basis with_.

The closer it got to my meeting, the more I'd been dreading this. I still had approximately zero ideas of what I wanted to do with my life after Hogwarts.

"That's what the meeting is for!" Lizzie had exclaimed excitedly during Arithmancy yesterday, when I admitted that aloud. In the opposite situation of myself, she has about fifty ideas of what she wants to do after graduation, with no direction of which one she should take. "They'll help you figure out what the best path is for you!"

Her enthusiasm has not caught on, but I'm willing to admit that it might be good for me to have an outside opinion on all of this.

"So, how are we doing, Carson?"

Let's see, I've spent my week drinking every night with Meg to help her get over her break up, apparently talked _Louis_ into ignoring _Maeve_ with his increased self-awareness of their situation, still aren't sure of my career options, and am categorically ignoring the rapidly approaching date of my mother's next wedding. "Fine," I settle on, since we don't have all day.

"Good, good," Professor Longbottom says absentmindedly. "So, usually we've had a meeting in Fifth Year so I have some kind of idea what you're thinking career wise by the time you get to Seventh Year." He looks over at me, smiling kindly. "But obviously, we had no such meeting! So, tell me. What _are_ you thinking?"

The answer I'd given Ginny Potter about living off Dad's money to be a food critic runs through my head and I repeat it to Professor Longbottom, who laughs. "But somehow, I don't think that's what you're looking for,"

"No," He chuckles again. "Not quite," He looks down at the file in front of him. "You've got fairly good marks in your classes, you're a hard-worker; with good recommendation letters, which you'd have no problem getting, I think you could be an Auror if you wanted,"

I pull a face. "Pass,"

"How about a Healer?" He suggests. I shake my head. "I asked because those seemed to the paths you were on, based on the courses you selected at Ilvermorny,"

"I picked them because I really didn't know what I wanted to do," I say honestly. "And those gave me the most flexibility,"

"Well what do you like to do?"

"Quodpot," I say firmly. "Well, Quidditch here," I correct. "And Arithmancy,"

"Arithmancy," Professor Longbottom smiles, relieved. "Now that I can work with,"

* * *

 _Coming Up Soon: The Wedding of the Century, Take 20; Florida remains the most absurd place on the planet; Carson wins a pool_


	24. twenty four

"So, uh, remind me again," James tugs on his t-shirt, trying to get the fabric to unstick to his shoulders (those efforts will be futile, boo, don't even attempt). "Wh-where are we, exactly?"

I bite back a laugh as I turn to him. He'd shed his sweater the second we landed from our Portkey, but despite my warnings that our destination would be _hot_ , he hadn't taken me seriously and hadn't bothered to change before we left school. "This is Florida. It's a humid as hell wasteland of absurd things you won't believe are real. Beware of gators,"

His face morphs into one of confusion. "Gators?"

"These huge No-Maj creatures that look like flat little dinosaurs and live in swamps until they climb out to eat you," He gives me a look. "And also, watch for frocos, but they're much more rare,"

"Uhh,"

I answer his unasked follow-up. "Frocos are _like_ gators, except since they're magical beasts, they have wings and can fly short distances."

"You're joking," James shakes his head.

"It's a shame we don't have more time here," I continue, not really hearing what he said. "If we didn't have to ditch this place so quickly, I'd totally bring you to Disney World,"

"What?"

"It's this totally awesome amusement park that this wizard created years and years ago and opened to No-Majs too, to fight Rappaport's Law! One of the parks is literally called "the most magical place on Earth!" The No-Majs don't even realize that actual magic is what keeps it running, except there are stories of some of them seeing a few of the ghosts that live in the park and-"

"Where the hell have you brought me?" James asks in disbelief.

"Florida," I repeat, leading him toward the _very_ fancy hotel Mom had rented for this wedding.

Located right on the Gulf of Mexico, the beautiful white building and the property surrounding it seemed to ooze the luxury my mother craved. Staff members were already rushing down, eager to greet us and take our bags, while offering us drinks. Large cascading chandeliers were visible in front of us throughout the lobby, a lobby filled with perfectly white furniture, and wide, open, doors that led out to two large pools, and then the beach just past it.

"Eh, you know what, I could get used this Florida thing, I think," James says, after looking around us.

"You'll be over the heat and humidity before we leave on Saturday morning," I tease.

He hesitates and then amends. "I could get used to _vacationing_ here in Florida,"

I laugh. "Come on; we have to get checked in and dressed for the rehearsal dinner."

* * *

"So at exactly which wedding did you just stop caring?" James asks, as we finally make our way out of the room.

"What do you mean?" He gives me a look. "Are you implying that I didn't spend enough time making myself pretty for this?"

"No, no, that's not-" He hastens to say. "I just mean-it was a long shower and then it didn't-I mean-"

I raise an eyebrow at him, reveling in this rare moment of awkwardness for him. "Are you upset we spent so long in the shower?" He certainly hadn't been when I'd slipped in with him at the moment.

"NO!" He responds vehemently, and I giggle. "I'm just thankful your dad's not here because I'm not sure I could look him in the eyes tonight,"

"I guess now's not a good time to tell you that I'm not wearing any underwear, then," I tease.

James eyes me appraisingly, scanning up and down my tight coral dress, with the black geometric pattern forming an illusion neckline. "You're not serious, right? Please tell me you aren't actually serious,"

I merely shrug my shoulders, as we've arrived at the entrance of the hotel's restaurant where Mom's rehearsal dinner is to be held. On the other side of the room, I spot my mom and what has to be the newest fiancée, talking with my grandparents. Mom and Mimi look as perfect as ever, standing tall and proper, but Pop, a Halfblood who'd returned to some of his No-Maj roots when he and my grandmother divorced a few years ago, looks comfortable and casual in colorful shorts and a golf shirt. "I guess you'll see later then, won't you?"

"Carson," James whines, as I spot my four cousins at a table with my uncle and grab his hand to pull him over. "You're killing me,"

"Now maybe you'll think twice before you assign laps next week, which is when _you_ most kill me," I chirp back.

My cousins and uncle are sitting as far away from the front as possible, and by the looks of things, they've saved two seats for James and I. My mom's sister, Pam, is up at the head table, as her Maid of Honor, but Pam's husband, is back here with us, and Uncle Mike has always been cool and laid back. All four of their kids are here today; obviously, the ones still in school deemed Florida a worthy enough vacation.

"Is it too late to get in?" I slip in next to my cousin, allowing James to take the seat next to Uncle Mike.

"Nah," Ian shakes his head, sliding me the paper. "We'll allow it,"

I scan my eyes over what they've all written. "I want 5:1 odds on he doesn't know,"

"What?" Sean howls from across the table, glaring first at me, and then his brother. "That's absurd!"

"Fine, 7:2," I settle.

"That's fair," Ian agrees.

"It is not," Kendall hisses back to her brother; she and Sean are the two youngest and can often be seen agreeing with each other, sometimes solely for the sake of strengthening the other's point. "She knows him better than we do!"

"Lies and slander, I haven't even met him yet!"

"Ohhh," Alyssa, the oldest of the four, looks away from Billy, her boyfriend of five years (aka, what we had all _hoped_ would be the next family wedding) to eye me excitedly. "Now, that's a game changer! I want to change my bet,"

"There's betting?" James perks up

"You don't even know what's going on, newb!" Sean exclaims.

James waves him off. "I'll pull something out of the air,"

Billy grins, holding his hand out to James. "Great to meet you, newb. Billy Summers."

"James Potter," James grins back.

The name is _not quite_ as recognizable as it is in Britain, but it's still a big one, and everyone freezes for a moment, before all addressing _me_. "How'd you meet _a Potter_?"

"We're school friends," I smile pleasantly as a waiter arrives to take our drink orders, and James looks surprised as that's the end of the conversation-that tiny bit of information was the be all, end all on the subject of his last name.

It definitely has more to do with the waiter needing our drink order, but they really wouldn't have cared _too_ much.

From then on, James is a hit with my cousins and uncle, charming them all with tales of his childhood, and different ways that he, Freddy, and Louis would terrorize their family when they were younger. By the time dessert comes out, my cousins have already promised him an invite to Pop's annual boys' golf trip, where he takes them all golfing for a weekend as an excuse to drink for days, with the promise that Pop will love James when he does meet him.

And they don't even _know_ that we're dating.

Pop's toast brings silence to our table and everyone around us. "It brings me great pleasure to welcome you all to what has become the Pohl Family Annual Reunion," The comment earns him a loud laugh (especially from our corner) and a death glare from my mom, but Pop continues on with a grin, still wildly happy to push all her buttons. "Thank you, thank you, it's great to be here tonight with my happy daughter," The tight smile on Mom's face doesn't really _scream_ happy but okay. "Her wonderful fiancée," There's just a slight infliction in the word that tells me everything I need to know about what Pop thinks about my future step-father. "And so many of you that have travelled so far,"

His eyes scan the room. "I mean, the California cousins have made it this time. My ex-wife flew in on her broomstick," He pauses. "That joke lands much better with a No-Maj crowd," A few laughs, mostly from my cousins and I. "Carson even came back from Scotland to watch her mother get married again-"

And there it is. Pop doesn't even realize that Mom is cringing behind him and her fiancée's jaw has dropped. My fist pumps in excitement as he leans over to whisper to her and Billy lets out a "what the fuck" entirely too loudly; Mimi's best friend at the table next to us whips her head around to glare at him.

"Yes!" I cry again, still shaking my hands in victory.

"This is bullshit," Kendall whines, but she's ignored as we all watch the fiancée stand up from the table and walk out of the room.

Up front, Pop only grins. "Did I say something wrong?" He asks innocently, but the shit-eating grin on his face says otherwise.

* * *

"So kiddo," Pop sits down next to me, holding out a bottle of champagne. "How's it hanging?"

"Well _I_ didn't lose the groom, so good, I guess," I snatch the bottle out of his hands and guzzle down a sip, before passing it over to James.

Pop grins. "Your grandmother is furious with me. Isn't it great?"

As Mimi and my mom were on the search to find Josh (Twenty, as he will be formally known as from now on-what a milestone, Ratch), the restaurant had cleared out; and while, Pop, James, and I had initially gone to the bar with my cousins, we'd been found by Mimi almost instantly and were scolded for our lack of interest.

So instead we'd retired to "basecamp" as Mimi had termed her room, where we were all supposed to meet once someone found Twenty and started drinking.

Pop snags the bottle back from James. "I meant with school? How's Scotland? What's new there?"

I exchange a look with James, checking his face for any signs of annoyance as I'm about to lie my ass off about our relationship (though a lie of omission isn't technically a lie, I'd argued, and he'd glared me down until I admitted I didn't want to tell anyone on this side of the family until I was able to tell my dad), before turning back to my grandfather. "It's good. Made some good friends, the classes aren't too bad. The food isn't great,"

"Hey!" James protests.

"But I'm making do," I ignore him.

The door to the suite flings open before Pop can respond and suddenly, here's Ratchel, _throwing_ herself onto the free couch, like _she's_ the angsty seventeen year old. "You've lost him! He's nowhere to be found!" She cries dramatically, pointing across to Pop.

Pop looks over to Mimi, who's followed my mom into the room in a much more dignified manner, settling herself into the armchair and crossing her ankles before speaking. "Joshua is currently unaccounted for."

Ratchel sits back up on the couch and glares at Pop. Even her anger doesn't make her look older or uglier, unfortunately, and she still looks as young, beautiful, and healthy as ever. Her blonde hair is perfectly styled, the waves falling over her shoulders; her blue eyes are perfectly done up to make them pop; and she probably makes this tight, white dress she's donned look better than anyone one I know could.

I scowl internally at her continued perfection, even when _she's lost her fiancée_.

"Well, how should I have known you didn't tell him about your daughter?" Pop asks, perfectly pleasant, gesturing over at me, and Ratchel looks taken aback as she looks over, like she's only just noticed I'm there.

Her hand comes up over her heart and she blinks a few times as she takes my presence in. "How long have you been here?"

James does a great job covering his scoff with a cough as I respond, "I dunno, like six hours?"

"Huh," Is all she says to that, and I fight back the noise of frustration that's dying to come out, because, like, it's been _six months_ , Ratch, and that's it?

Of course, the silence might be a better reaction than Mimi's appraising glance. "Six hours here and you still chose to wear such a whore-ish color? I thought that was your last resort." She sniffs. "What's next? _Green_?"

Yes, actually, but only because I know she hates it. "Guess you'll see tomorrow," I say sweetly and she eyes me suspiciously as James stares at her in disbelief.

"Don't be silly; green washes her out," Ratchel waves Mimi off and then turns to address me. "Oh, you _wouldn't_ wear something like that, would you? It would reflect _terribly_ on _me_ ,"

Her fiancée is _missing_ and she's concerned about what I'm planning on wearing tomorrow? Oh, Ratchel's in fine form today, that's for sure.

This time, James can't hide his scoff, and finally Ratchel and Mimi turn toward him, "Sorry," He apologizes, sounding anything but.

"And you are?" Mimi asks coolly, looking him over with her sharpest gaze and most pursed lips-a sure sign she doesn't like him already.

"James Potter," He nods with a smirk, using all the clout his name pulls that I've never seen him milk before.

The change is instant; Mimi's face smooths over and Ratchel lights up. "A pleasure," Mimi returns and when James only nods in return, Ratchel returns to her original problem, knowing a lost cause when she sees one and not willing to waste time on it.

"Should we call the Aurors in?" She flops back against the couch, tossing the back of her hand to her forehead as she does.

"That's unreasonable," I roll my eyes. "It's been an hour,"

She sits up abruptly. "Well he wouldn't be missing if it weren't for you, so-"

"Are you-" I start angrily. How dare she blame this on me?

"Girls," Pop jumps in.

"No," I stand, hoping James will follow. "We're leaving. We will see you tomorrow, _if there's still a wedding_ ,"

I make it halfway down the hallway before I have to stop, sinking down to the floor and burying my face in my knees. Within seconds, an arm wraps around my shoulders and the familiar scent of James overwhelms me. "Come on," He mutters. "Let me get you back,"

It feels like I'm struggling for air as he leads me down the hallway and I barely notice as he opens to door to our room, so when the soft fabric hits my face, I jump, only to see James smiling softly at me and that it was a t-shirt of his that he'd thrown at me.

I return the smile gratefully and climb into bed the second I've changed, waiting for him and feeling so incredibly lucky that he moves to pull me into his arms the second he slides in beside me. He runs his fingers through my hair and my breath finally starts to even out, until he asks, "Are they like that all the time?" and I stop breathing all together for a moment.

"Mostly," I respond finally, tapping my fingers against his sternum.

It seems like forever before he responds. "They're fucking awful,"

I burst into laughter, burying my face in his chest, because if I don't laugh, I'll probably cry, and I'm not really drunk enough for that. "Mimi's gotten worse since she and Pop divorced; now she doesn't have any reason to hide,"

"How- "He cuts himself off abruptly. "I'm so fucking angry _for you_ , that this is-how could she blame _you_? She didn't even know you were there!" He pauses. "Which is ridiculous in itself!"

"Remember when I told you she treats having a daughter only as convenient when it is for her?" James nods. "Well,"

"That's fucked up,"

I shrug. "That's Ratchel,"

"Everything about you makes so much more sense," James sighs, kind of sadly. "If I never saw your mom again, it would still be a day too soon,"

"Yeah," It's my turn to sigh. "Me too,"

"So fuck it," He sits up, pulling me with him. "Let's leave,"

"We can't; the ceremony isn't until tomorrow afternoon!"

"Carson," He says pointedly. "You didn't even want to come in the first place. It's been a shitshow since we've arrived. Let's blow this hell hole and go home, first thing tomorrow morning,"

"Ok, yeah," I agree. "Let's do it!"

* * *

We leave first thing in the morning (meaning like, 10 am Florida time, when we wake up, not bothering to do anything more than say goodbye to my cousins, eager to get home in time for dinner. "Hello!" I call, pushing open the door.

"Carson?" Alicia calls back, sounding surprised. "You're early!"

"Couldn't handle the wedding fever anymore," I call back.

"Oh," She sound pleased. "We're in the kitchen!"

Dad's re-marking notes from his scouting notebook into the better draft while Alicia's working on dinner; the time difference has us arriving mid-afternoon, just in time to spend the rest of our weekend away doing as we'd originally planned-telling our parents. They both look up when we enter, stopping their tasks completely to stare. "Hey guys," I say weirdly, exchanging a look with James when they're still staring a full minute later.

"Did James go with you to your mother's wedding?" Dad asks.

I nod, the grin already growing as the moment arrives. "Yes, I thought it only right to bring my actual boyfriend as my plus one,"

"Boyfriend?" Dad says disgustedly.

"James?" Alicia repeats, with the same look on her face.

"I've never felt so loved," James deadpans.

"Yes, you're both being very rude!" I agree.

"Don't look at me; I'm against boyfriends in general!" Dad protests. "She's the one who doesn't like _him_!"

"I thought for sure you'd end up with Freddy once you two hit it off so well!" Alicia shakes her head disappointedly. "Where did we get off so wrong?" Dad and I both turn to stare at her. "What? Angelina and I had your entire wedding planned! The whole thing has to go back to the drawing board! The color scheme is completely off now!"

"Did you tell your mother you have a new boyfriend?" Dad demands suddenly, as if the idea has just occurred to him.

"Of course not!" I huff, sitting down with him at the table. Still hesitant, James follows, sitting absurdly upright in his chair. "You know I don't share personal information with her,"

"Why didn't you tell _us_ you had a boyfriend?" Alicia asks, levitating a cheese and cracker plater over for the three of us.

"I wanted _this moment_ in person because I knew it would be great, but man, you guys delivered better than I could have dreamed," I stick my thumb up at them. "Incredible job, keep up with the good work,"

Dad turns to James. "Are you sure this is who you want to date?"

"Hey!"

* * *

"James! Come _on_ , show me!" Colton whines, tugging on his hand to try and grab his attention back.

"Colton, stop it, he's playing with me now!" Erin snaps.

"There's enough James to go around, I promise," Alicia sing-songs from the kitchen, where she's making some appetizers for later.

Uncle Justin and his family would be arriving later for dinner with us, and as usual Alicia was rushing around to get everything ready, but I was content standing at this doorway, watching as James moves his attention between my siblings.

He'd shown Parker some Quidditch stuff earlier, braided Erin's hair (which, excuse me, thanks for holding out James), and had just generally impressed me with his patience and ability to ability to attend to all three of them at once. Even now, as he manages to pull Colton into the game that Erin is showing him, to make sure that he's included.

"You look happy," Dad's arm wraps around my shoulders and he pulls me into his side, joining me to watch James and the kiddos.

I look over at him, surprised. "Did you think I wasn't?"

"Different happy," He clarifies. "More...more settled, I guess,"

"Oh," I watch as Erin leans against James' side, smiling up at him. "I am, I guess? Happy, I mean. I'm happy,"

When Dad's eyes follow James, watching as he laughs with Colton, they're narrowed just a bit. "Well you better stay that way,"

The hidden threat is clear. "Dad!"

He laughs. "I didn't threaten him to his face!"

"And you better not!"

* * *

James groans, grabbing his stomach as we land outside the gate of his childhood home, a large one out in the countryside of England somewhere (though not nearly as large as _any_ of the tabloids would let you think). "I'm going to throw up,"

"Could be worse," I say cheerfully, delighting in the fact that _I was right_.

He glares at me for a moment before the eye movement is definitely too much for his headache; it'll still be about another ten minutes before the Hangover Solution Alicia had delivered to him in bed this morning would kick in. "How so?"

The answer to that is absurdly simple. " _You_ could have been the one eaten by a froco this weekend,"

Andthere was our answer to where the missing groom was. We'd found out last night from my cousins that Wedding Number 20 had was now the Wedding-That-Wasn't-only the groom's foot had been found next to a froco licking its chops.

"Fuck," James rubs his face. "I still can't fucking believe that's a real fucking animal,"

He's so pleasant when he's hungover.

I laugh, wrapping my arm around his waist, allowing him to lean against me a little as we walk through the gate and up toward the door. "At least I liked you enough to warn you about it,"

"There's a milestone," James says sarcastically. "We've moved up from taking _a week_ to tell me you liked me to warning me about dangerous creatures,"

"We did say we'd take things slow," I quip back to him, unable to stop the laugh at the look on his face when he looks over at me, exasperated.

James ignores my laugh in favor of entering the house and calling out for his parents. "Mum? Dad?"

"Hi James!" His mum returns, and he must recognize where she is because he grabs my hand and pulls me along.

Unlike me, James had written to his parents in advance, so neither of them looks surprised when we enter the kitchen together. Ginny is searching through a cabinet, while a spoon stirs itself in a bowl, and Harry is seated at the table, reading the paper. "Hello!" James says brightly, then winces.

"Hello," Harry returns amusedly.

"I thought you were coming for breakfast," Ginny says, finding what she needed and going back to her bowl.

"We were supposed to," I nod, looking slyly at James. "But then, _some of us_ were too hungover to get out of bed."

"It's not my fault," James whines. "We were bonding!"

I shrug, thinking back to last night. "I warned you,"

"Did you actually think I'd listen?"

Hah, no, but that had been half the fun. Watching James, Uncle Justin, and my dad get progressively drunker last night had been the highlight of my weekend.

"Then you deserve to pay the price," Ginny says, matter-of-factly. "I hope you're suffering miserably,"

James grins easily; he's definitely getting back to his normal self. "Alicia brought me breakfast _and_ Hangover Solution _in bed_. The Wood's are much nicer than you two,"

"Eh," I move my hand back and forth. "Depends who you get. Alicia brings breakfast with your Hangover Solution; Dad stands at the door with it and sends Colton and Erin in with pots and pans to wake you up the minute that he's awake,"

Harry nods solemnly. "I wouldn't expect anything less from Oliver,"

Ginny laughs a little. "Are you up for lunch?"

James scoffs. "Have I ever turned down food?"

"Carson?" She inquires politely.

"She doesn't turn down food either," James says.

"Is that banana bread you're making?" I follow-up.

She nods slowly. "Yes,"

"Smells delicious already," James cracks up and Ginny smiles, requesting Harry order Chinese takeout for lunch if there are no objections.

It arrives shortly after, and we all sit, continuing the easy conversation.

"How was meeting the parents?" Ginny asks, using her chopsticks with ease. "What were you bonding over?"

"Whiskey," James answers.

"No, I mean, what were you talking about, not what were you drinking," She rolls her eyes.

"Whiskey," James repeats.

Harry snorts. "That sounds about right."

"Did you tell Oliver about your whiskey making kit?" Ginny asks.

James and I exchange a look, because that small, home whiskey making kit, which had been my Christmas present to James, had been what started the talk of whiskey. I'd only found out a couple weeks ago that James had brought it back to school with him and that he and the boys were brewing whiskey in their room on the reg, even attempting to speed up the process with their wands and trialing different recipes with the barrels they'd duplicated from the original.

My dad and Uncle Justin had been _elated_ at the thought of them brewing whiskey in their dorm at school, and James was instantly in with them, no more questions asked. They'd spent the rest of the evening sipping through Dad's different whiskeys to attempt to make a list for James to try to mimic back at school.

Ginny, however, sees right though our sketchy look and addresses her son directly. "What are you doing that you're not supposed to?" It's said with all the knowing of a mother who has raised three kids who have caused more than their fair share of mischief.

"Don't worry about it," James says. "It's only school illegal, not Dad illegal,"

"That doesn't really make me feel better," Ginny glares at him.

"Don't worry," I jump in. "Maeve would never let them do anything too wrong,"

Harry snickers. "It's hilarious that she didn't say Lou,"

I grin. "Oh Merlin, no, never Lou,"

Even Ginny laughs, and it serves to distract her enough to switch the topic of conversation. I'd been nervous to meet James' parents in this one-on-one setting, but it turns out I'd had nothing to worry about (as he'd said, but we'll keep this one to ourselves, yeah?), because they're just as pleasant and wonderful as any time I'd met them before.

When we return to Hogwarts, it's with arms full of Chinese leftovers and banana bread loaves that earn us envious looks throughout our trip back to Gryffindor Tower. We split to our dorms to make the drop off, with the promise to meet in the Common Room right after to start making final preparations for the upcoming Hufflepuff match.

"You're back!" Lizzie cries, from where she's lounging on my bed, the instant I open my door.

In fact, all four of the girls are lounging around the dorm, and strangely enough, still in their pajamas (Maeve is _always_ dressed by this time of day). "Hey guys," I say, a little suspicious. "What uh-what's going on here?"

"A disaster," Meg says.

Sorry, what? "Did Louis kiss you again?" I address Maeve immediately. "I'm going to fucking kill him," I'm halfway out the door. "LOU!"

"Wait!" Maeve calls me back.

"No, they're still not speaking," Meg says.

"Ugh, can't you guys just get it together?" I whine.

Maeve gives me a look as Meg clarifies her earlier statement. "I was referring to a different disaster."

My eyes widen. "What the hell happened here this weekend?"

The nervous glance between the four of them is not at all comforting. Cool, guys.

* * *

 **A/N:** *crawls out of corner* I hope the 4700 words of this chapter make up for how long it's been since last update *ducks back down*

 _Coming Up Soon: The long anticipated Hufflepuff match, James talks with some scouts, Carson the sass master_


	25. twenty five

"See?" Meg gestures at breakfast the next morning. "Look at them!"

I look down the table at Vero and Dan, _who are talking like absolutely nothing is wrong_ , and level her with a flat stare. "We need to have a discussion about what merits the use of the word _disaster_ ,"

" _You_ weren't at breakfast on Sunday morning!" Meg accuses. "You have no idea what happened!"

"Well were you staring at them like you are now? Because that's enough to make anyone feel awkward!" She pointedly looks up to avoid my eyes. "So they made out on Saturday? I make out with people _all the time_ -"

"Sorry, what was that?" James interrupts, not able to hide the shit-eating grin that's growing over his face.

"Fuck off," I tell him. "I'm trying to calm the dramatics,"

He snorts. "Good luck with that. We've been trying for years,"

Meg throws a clump of eggs at him. "Jerk!"

While James returns with the favor with a slice of bacon, I sneak my own look over at Vero and Dan. All three of the Puff girls are with us at breakfast this morning and Dan and Vero have recruited Maeve and Liam into their conversation. No trace of whatever awkwardness may have been lingering at yesterday's breakfast.

Vero further diffuses the situation in Arithmancy. "Yeah, we're all good,"

Lizzie and Maeve share a concerned look. " _All_ good?" Maeve asks.

Vero nods. "Yeah, we talked this morning. It was just some fun,"

"So it's all good and done with?" Lizzie confirms.

"No, it's definitely going to happen again," Vero nods.

I beam. "'Atta girl!"

"Vero!" Maeve hisses.

"Maeve," I say warningly.

"No!" She shakes her head. "This is not...this-Ver, this is the first guy you've gone anywhere _near_ since Lycus! I just don't want you to get hurt!"

Oh. That...is a good point. I look over to see Lizzie pursing her lips and Vero worrying her bottom one. "V, we'll support you no matter what," I add, and see Maeve nodding along hurriedly in the corner of my eye. "I think Maeve just wants to make sure you're okay with something casual,"

"Yes," Maeve grabs at, relieved.

Vero nods. "I don't-I'm not looking for anything serious right now. Dan's cute, and funny, and we get along and I really don't want anything more than somebody who I can snog once in a while,"

"Famous last words," Lizzie's eyes narrow. "And then Lou will get his head out of his ass and suddenly you'll all have beautiful Gryffindor boyfriends and I'll be left here alone,"

"You'll still have Meg," Maeve says reassuringly.

Vero and I exchange a look. Little does she know.

* * *

The morning of the Hufflepuff match could not be more different than our first one of the year; it's cold, cloudy, and every so often, it'll start to flurry. My bitterness about the weather matches the bite in the wind and Coop keeps making faces every time it starts to snow.

At least I'm not the only one.

Maddy and Scott look infinitely better this morning than on the day of our first game. Scott's got an easy grin on his face as he sings along with and laughs at Freddy and Fitz's pre-game ritual. Maddy sticks with her game face, cool and imperturbable as she sits on the floor in front of me so that I'll braid her hair again before the game.

And then there's James.

Our illustrious captain is moving around the room, bouncing between each of us and periodically moving outside to give weather updates. "Snowing again," He pops back inside.

"Damn it," Coop curses.

"James," I say sweetly.

"Yes?"

"We know the weather sucks; find something else to talk about,"

He grins back at me. "How about this-grab your brooms, it's time to line up?"

I pat Maddy's head and grin back at him. "Now that's more like it!"

James grabs possession once we kick off and passes off quickly to me as we start to make our way down the pitch

The funny thing about Quidditch-well, all sports, really-is that so much of it is based on strategy. And if you do your homework and really look at another team's players, plays, and past games, you can put together a lot of what they like to do to try and make it a little easier on yourself.

So it's not really surprising that as soon as James hands the Quaffle off to me, I'm double teamed, by two of Hufflepuff's Chasers. After all, I did score the majority of our points last match.

Unfortunately for Hufflepuff, we Gryffies are now using Advanced Quidditch statistics to drive the play of game, so that plan isn't going to work anymore.

I push through the two of them as much as I can and drop pass to Scotty when there's nowhere else to go. Uncovered, he shoots off toward the hoops; I manage to block one of the Chasers near me and the other makes to follow him, but it's too late.

Scott pulls back his arm, aiming for the left hoop, as we'd discussed...and it sails in. He loops around on his broom, arms raised and a beaming smile on his face. I high five him as he passes but James' mere half smile (a ten-point lead is far too early for any celebration from James) gets him in position defensively and the game quickly takes off again.

It's such a different game from our last one. Hufflepuff are definitely a better team than Slytherin and it shows in the score, which is much closer, but the confusion on their faces is evident as they attempt to figure out our strategy. Our efforts to target the left hoop until their Keeper moves to cover that one, and thus leaving the others more open, go swimmingly, particularly as James and Scott are the ones taking most of our shots initially...leaving the Hufflepuff Chasers and Keeper even more confused.

One hour and two Snitch sightings in (one of which had James actually panicked), we're up by 30 and Hufflepuff's Keeper is finally starting to hover by the left hoop. I watch with anticipation as Coop makes a save and then James gives the signal, a short little thing with his arm that you'd miss if you weren't looking for it, so when Coop passes it off to Scotty, I take off along side him, ready and waiting, dodging a bludger to get in place near the right hoop.

Hufflepuff's Keeper is in ready position as Scotty weaves, but he's not quick enough to get all the way across when the kid lobs it over for me to easily pop it in the furthest hoop.

As Dad often says, one of the marks of a great Keeper is the ability to bounce back. "Can't let one goal get you down," He's done a whole sports psychology thing on it. Unfortunately for Hufflepuff, their Keeper could use some work in this area; his confidence visibly deflates immediately after my goal goes in.

Hufflepuff's Chasers are good, which takes helps make up some of the difference, but it's not enough. James is one of the best Chasers in recent Hogwarts history and Scotty has made _so much improvement_ in the last few months, since we've started using the stats to fix his game.

With Maddy's snitch catch, we win the game by over 200 and the whole House storms the field. There's still a game against Ravenclaw and even the Final after that, but it's going to be tough for anyone to beat us with these point differentials.

I lose James in the chaos of the crowd, celebrating with Housemates that I both know and don't know like we've already won the damn Cup. "CDUB!" Meg's voice somehow manages to carry over the noise and I turn away from a group of Third Years just in time to see her and Freddy approaching, him carrying her piggyback style to better push through the crowd.

Both are wearing wide grins and as they approach, I move closer to them, and when we meet in the middle, Meg lifts Freddy's arms so that they're both pulling me in for a giant hug. "You were brilliant!" She shouts, and he doesn't even wince, he's so amped up, even though it's right in his ear.

"Fucking right!" He agrees.

"So were you!" He's still got one of his arms around me, the other holding tightly onto Meg's arms around his neck, and I lean into his side. "I don't think you had a single non-contact hit. Your gross production average is going to be so high!" I beam, giddily.

"Nerd!" Meg teases.

"Yeah," Freddy agrees. "Can't you just be excited about the win like the rest of us and go back to business on Monday?"

"That's why the Cap pays me the big bucks to be his second in command and you're just a lowly peon," Freddy waggles his eyebrows and I smack his chest, knowing exactly where his mind is at. "Don't!"

He rubs the spot (proving that he and Meg are perfect for each other, because he too overdramatizes everything, seeing as I barely touched him). "Meg, go beat Carson up for me!"

Meg giggles. "Only because she's been ditching me for James this week,"

"What?" I cry, outraged, as Freddy cracks up. "It was for Quidditch!"

"Mmhmm," She nods skeptically, giving me a knowing look. "Right. _That's_ what you were doing on James' bed with the curtains drawn."

Well, it was _partially_ what we were doing, but I'm certainly not going to admit that to her _now_. "Yes!" I maintain.

She and Freddy both laugh outrageously. "Right. Okay."

"Screw you guys!" I flip up both my middle fingers, one for each of them. "I'm going to find James,"

"Locker room is probably empty!" Freddy calls. "I can hold anyone off for another 30 minutes, probably." And he and Meg laugh even harder as I flip them off again while turning around in search of James.

As soon as I push through to the other side of the pitch, I see James...surrounded by _a group of scouts,_ holy shit. It's actually happening, they're actually talking to him.

Including, surprise of all surprises, my dad and Uncle Justin.

Way to tell me you guys were visiting this weekend, jerks.

When Uncle Justin sees me, he grins, holding his hand out for a high-five, so I approach, just in time to hear James praising me to one of the Falcons scouts. "She's been a great addition to the team, obviously; the spearhead of our stats movement for sure, the driving force behind so much of our strategy and improvements. I don't think it's an exaggeration at all to say that we wouldn't be in the position we are as a team without her-"

He stops abruptly when he notices I'm there and I grin at him. "No, no, go on. Keep saying nice things about me,"

"Piss off," James says teasingly, and all the scouts and managers around him laugh, including my dad, who's also got this look on his face, like he doesn't know whether to laugh or frown. Classic.

The Wasps Manager raises his hand up once the laughter quiets and immediately starts speaking before James acknowledges him. "Can you expand on how you're using these stats?"

"Uh, sure," James says, and I can't even fight back my laugh as he attempts to explain how we're using stats to improve and drive our play. "-and so combined with our team numbers we've really noticed an improvement in how we strategize, but also in how we play, since we have these concrete numbers in areas regarding improvement and areas we should focus on."

"Could you give us an example?" A guy from the Cannons presses. "On what you've been using this for?"

"Sure," James nods. "So since our last game, we've focused a lot on controlling the Quaffle and passing drills, based on our STSR and Hufflepuff's Harper-Wilde."

Cannons guy's eyes narrow. A stats skeptic for sure. "And you think this is has been a good use of your time? Looking at your STSR?"

James nods and I smile. For all the debates we have about exactly how much use the metrics have, he's still willing to fight for them for me. "It's a good measure of our team play. I think we've improved?" He looks over at me for confirmation. "You think it's around, what?"

"Like 106?" I shrug, thinking through all our shots this game. "I'd guess, off the top of my head,"

"That's impossible," Cannons guy laughs, rather meanly.

I shrug. "Well that's way down from the 116 it was at after our last game,"

He snorts in response. "Maybe your stats person needs some work on how to calculate."

"Maybe the Cannons should start using stats, and they wouldn't be the worst team in the league," Dad, Uncle Justin, and James all beam proudly at my retort and I smile, satisfied, as the others around us start laughing, even as another of the scouts starts to ask James about his use of stats in game, still a relatively novel idea in the world of Quidditch, particularly the way we use them, to drive play and not just keep track of numbers.

"You were great!" Uncle Justin pulls me into a hug, as James thanks them all for coming to talk with him. "Star of the show,"

"Don't tell the Cap!" I tease, throwing my arms around Dad, as he joins us. "I'm so mad you didn't tell me you were coming!"

"We wanted to surprise you!" He grins. "We're going to crash your victory party," He teases.

"Okay!" I grin.

"I was kidding,"

"You should!" James agrees, finally joining us. "We were going to open one of the whiskeys tonight,"

Dad and Uncle Justin exchange a look. "Well, if you insist," Uncle Justin says.

"Yay!" I cheer.

"Are you drunk already?" Dad asks.

I snicker. "Uh, no, but Freddy might be by now,"

He shakes his head, laughing slightly. "Go get dressed."

It takes another few minutes for James and me to make it to the locker room, getting stopped by more housemates looking to celebrate. The mood is infectious, and it's easy to get more excited as we make out way through the crowd. When we finally make it to the locker room, James pushes me against the first locker he sees, barely even letting the door close behind us. "Left fucking hoop," He declares enthusiastically, kissing me soundly.

"Ow ow!" Freddy catcalls, and I manage to successfully flip him off as I loop my arms around James' neck.

They're blasting music, that upbeat song Freddy had claimed as our victory anthem after last game on repeat, as the entire team is in various states of disarray, attempting to get themselves ready to head inside for the party. "Plenty of time for that later!" Coop throws his glove at us, successfully breaking James and I apart. "There is booze with my name on it!"

I grin up at James. "And we have a whiskey to try,"

He kisses me again. "And adults to entertain," He grins lazily.

I wave that off as I go over to grab my stuff to shower. "I'll bet you all my laps next week that they've found Meg and are upstairs drinking already,"

He scoffs, but the look on his face is _hilarious_ when we get back to the Common Room and we see Dad and Uncle Justin ripping a round of shots with Meg, Lou, Dan, and Liam.

Merlin bless his sister for capturing the look on James' face when we walk in the door. That photo's going to be a beauty.

* * *

 _Coming Up Soon: Valentine's Day at Hogwarts, Meg has more opinions about Carson's date that Carson does, Lou should just consider changing his name to Louis I-did-something-stupid Weasley_


	26. twenty six

Our Quidditch win was quickly overshadowed by another important discussion topic, at least in teenage standards, as January comes to a close and February opens in a blizzardy storm.

Valentine's Day had come to Hogwarts and the excitement was palpable.

For _some_ of us.

"So what are you going to wear?" Meg asks, at dinner one night, about a week before the holiday. As soon as the plans for a Valentine's Day Hogsmeade trip were announced, James announced to me that he'd made plans for the day for us...but had so far refused to give me any details, much to my frustration.

"I dunno," I shrug, but I mean, it's winter in Northern Scotland, so... "Probably jeans, boots, and my parka?"

She fixes me with a flat stare. "Absolutely not,"

"There's a blizzard!" I protest. "It's going to be cold. James won't care what I wear! In fact," I add, after the smallest pause to think. "I'll go so far as to say that anything I wear will be _a disappointment_ after what I wore to my mom's last wedding, since I will _most definitely_ be wearing underwear next weekend!"

"Ugh," Lou groans in disgust.

"I care!" Meg cries, ignoring him completely.

And there it is.

I exchange a look with Lou, who's now snickering into his hands. "Well is there something you'd prefer I wear then?"

"That was a mistake," Lou shakes his head.

"Well, _in my head_ , I thought maybe that denim skirt with a cute top, but if you're _so insistent_ on staying warm," She waves her hands around like _that idea_ is the crazy one. "I guess I can take another look,"

I shake my head. "Don't make that face at me. I don't know what you wear for these things. This is my first Valentine's Date."

"Seriously?" She tilts her head, searching my face for the lie. "Not even one? You date so much!"

Yeah, except. "Do I really seem like a "Valentine's Day" person?"

"That might be the most accurate description of yourself that I've ever heard," Lou snickers.

Cheers, Lou.

"What are you doing for Valentine's Day this year?" I ask Meg, rather hesitantly, before she can start talking shit about me again. She's been doing good recently since the break-up with Tim, but she has her days; we'd all been unsure if Valentine's day would be a trigger to send her backsliding.

"Oh, Freddy, Dan, and I have booked ourselves for the 10am tour of Honeyduke's to see how they make everything and then we'll probably just hang at the bar," She shrugs.

"What?" I cry outraged, and look over at James, who merely waves me off, knowing exactly what I'm upset about.

"We're booked for the 2pm tour," He reassures me, before turning back to Freddy.

Oh. Well good.

"Lou, I take it from your lack of invitation that you finally manned up and are taking Maeve out," I beam. Fucking finally.

Meg gasps. "Louis William! How dare you not tell us immediately?"

"Uhh, well, there was nothing to tell," Lou responds nervously. "Because I'm not taking her,"

It's literally the worst thing he could have possibly said.

"Sorry, what?" I ask.

"Are you still not talking?" Meg demands.

"What do you mean didn't ask her to go to Hogsmeade with you? How dumb can you be?" I

"I panicked! She's so pretty!"

"You're part veela!" Meg cries. " _You're_ so pretty!"

"Well this got weird," Freddy nods.

"How long were you listening?" I ask.

"Long enough," James agrees, with a smirk on his face. "And you're right; underwear _will_ be disappointing,"

I laugh as Meg glares at him. "You are _ruining_ my Valentine's Day, James! That is the _least_ romantic thing you could have said!"

"You are not even a part of this relationship!" James protests.

"Yes, but _someone_ has to put the romance in your relationship, since you and Carson obviously won't!" Meg huffs.

"Screw you!" James says, as Freddy, Lou, and I watch the two of them go back and forth, fascinated. "I planned a _great_ date that Carson is going to love!"

"Ooooo," Lou pulls a face. "That's setting the bar high."

"Yeah, Carson doesn't really love anything," Freddy adds.

"That's not true!" I protest. "I love lots of things!"

"Beer doesn't count," Lou adds flatly.

"Honestly, I'm feeling personally attacked right now," I respond, as they all start laughing. "Where is Maeve to tell you all to stop being mean to me when I need her?"

"Oh, uh, still avoiding Lou, apparently!" Meg sasses, to immediately duck a slice of toast Lou throws at her.

"She's not... _completely_ avoiding me," Lou mutters, looking down.

The four of us exchange a look, concerned about how downtrodden he looks. "Sure she's not," Freddy says, supportively rubbing Lou's back. "She's just-" He cuts off, looking to us for help, his eyes comically wide.

"A little unsure," I fill in.

Lou side-eyes me and Freddy hisses. "I don't think that was helpful!"

"What? We talked about this. He needs to talk with her!" I shrug.

"I agree!" Meg says. "We've talked about this _in length_!"

"You guys talk about me behind my back?" Lou cries, outraged. "I take it back, of course you do. Help me figure out what to say to Maeve,"

* * *

"What are you doing?" James asks loudly, as we come up behind Lou and Dan acting _super_ sketchy on the walk to Hogsmeade.

"Uhhh," Lou hesitates.

"Danny?" I look over.

"He's stalking Maeve," Dan answers immediately.

"Louis!" I scold.

"Stalking is a strong word," Lou says. "I am...casually following her to build up the nerve to talk to her."

"That sounds a lot like stalking," James nods.

"Not very Gryffindor," I add.

"I said the same thing," Dan shakes his head.

"I thought you were going to Honeydukes!" I frown at him. "What made you volunteer to come along with Lou?"

"I didn't volunteer, Meg _volun-told_ me because she was worried Lou would do something stupid," Dan looks over at Lou, who's pulling his hat down lower over his head in an attempt not to be recognized as we get closer to the village. "Which..." He trails off, but he doesn't need to finish; the words aren't necessary.

"Probably for the best," I agree, wondering briefly if Freddy realizes the opportunity he's just been handed.

Probably not. That boy is oblivious.

"Well," James jumps in at just the right time, before this can go any deeper. "We should go,"

"Yep," I slip my hand into his. "Got plans for the day,"

"Yeah, yeah," Lou brushes us off, peeking around the group in front of us.

Dan looks at us and his message is clear. _Don't leave me_. "You sure guys?"

"Sorry, mate," James grins easily.

"You'll be fine," I agree. "Just...don't let him do anything stupid. Or illegal," I add, as an afterthought.

"I think that's easier said than done," Dan says dryly, but goes to catch up with Lou and stop him from trying to hide in a pocket of Third Years, including James' sister and her friends.

* * *

"No!" I stop at the threshold of the pink entrance, refusing to step inside of the pink door James is holding open for me. "Absolutely not!"

He grins back at me easily. "Come on! This is _the place_ for dates!"

"No!" I shake my head, looking at the _pink sign_ , reading Madame Pudifoot's. _Why is everything here pink_? "This is the worse place I've ever been, and we haven't even stepped foot inside,"

He lets the door close, stepping closer to me instead. "We went to your mother's wedding a month ago and this is the worst?"

"Fine," I relent. "Sixteenth worst,"

James frowns. "It was her twentieth wedding, was it not?"

"Yes, but in fairness, some of the locations of those weddings weren't terrible, even if she is,"

James looks like he wants to laugh at me, biting his lip to keep the noise in, but as usual, he commits to his bit. "I, for one, would love to return to Florida. A vacation of froco hunting sounds absolutely brilliant,"

My eyes wander up over to the frilly curtains in the window in front of us (magenta curtains, which is technically a shade of pink). "I'd rather be eaten by a froco than go inside this restaurant," I sigh dramatically.

"Probably still too soon, maybe?" James shrugs.

I ignore him and move toward the door. "Let's just get his over with," Silence follows the statement and I turn around to see James with the biggest shit-eating grin on his face and his hands tucked into his pockets. "Oh, you motherfucker,"

"Come on," Somehow, the grin grows. "You didn't really think I'd take you to a place like this?" He gestures to the tea shop.

"You motherfucker," I repeat, leaping at him in an attempt to tackle him into the cold snow as payback.

It fails, as he merely catches me midair and spins me around. "Would you like to see where I'm really taking you?"

"That depends," I say snarkily, extremely glad he ignores me when he pulls me down a side alley to a set of metal doors that look like they lead to the crawl space of the old brick building they're built into.

Instead, we climb down a ladder and are greeted with upbeat flamenco music, the familiar smell of Mexican food, and a brightly colored sign that reads _La Escalera_.

The smile starts growing on my face before I even take the whole room in. "This is awesome," I beam, looking all around.

"Better than tea?" James grins cockily, knowing he's done exactly what he said he would-planned a great date that I do love.

But for once, I don't even feel competitive with him. There's no desire to one-up or make a sassy comment.

I'm just...totally and completely happy. Happy to be here, happy to be _with him_.

I've never really seen the appeal to Valentine's Day with anyone before, but James is making a strong case for the holiday.

So I slip my hand back into his, ready to find our table (and more importantly, start eating). "Way better than tea,"

* * *

"You sure you want to pop in there?" I ask James, as he makes his way over to the spirits shop.

So far, he'd crushed this date. _La Escalera_ had been phenomenal (my new favorite restaurant in Hogsmeade for sure), and the Honeydukes tour was not only informative, but also entertaining, and had also been filled with free samples, making it a highlight of my _year_.

He gives me a look, catching the tone instantly. "What are you trying to say?"

"Just that...your first attempt wasn't very good," I try to say as gently as I can, which is probably not as gentle as, say, Maeve or Lizzie could have said it. To say that James and the boys' first attempt at making whiskey had been terrible would be an understatement. Luckily for them, they still had more barrels brewing in their room...and ideas about what to change to make it better.

He grins. "Exactly! That's why I need more supplies. Practice makes perfect," He grabs my hand to pull me into the shop, but I remain rooted on the spot as a blonde head catches my eye.

Actually, that's two blonde heads.

"What are you-"

"Sh!" I shush him, eyeing wildly for anything to hide behind, so they don't see us, and then shoving him behind the only available option-one of the thin lantern poles in the street, which is doing shit all to hide us, so hopefully Lou and Maeve are too preoccupied to notice. "I'm trying to listen!"

"To what-fuck!" He mutters, catching on. "Are they finally-"

"I don't know!"

James rests his forearms against my back as we peer around the lantern pole. It's really, most unfortunately, too far away to hear anything. James had rifled through his pockets for an Extendable Ear, only to come up empty. Meanwhile, Maeve's hands move from her hips, to tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, to flying through the air after Lou must say something particularly stupid.

And the entire time, he's staring down at her, rapturously in love, like the sun, moon, and stars revolve around her.

Her rant stops, and I can see her mouth form the word. "What?"

"Nothing," Lou (almost definitely) says back, with the softest smile I've ever seen on his face.

Whatever he says next is lost due to my unfortunate lack of lip-reading skills, but it doesn't matter. It makes Maeve's jaw drop and her eyes widen and it's so cold that we can see all the air that comes out as her chest practically collapses, but Lou is right there to catch her and pull her into his arms, and then finally, _finally_ , he kisses her.

James and I could have been hiding behind a brick wall, but at that kiss it wouldn't have mattered; they would have known exactly where we were.

It turns out, though, that they don't even care. They break apart and look over. Maeve is still so shell-shocked she can't do anything more than beam and Lou merely flips us off. "Oi!" He shouts. "Cut it out!"

"We're so happy for you!" James calls back. "And us too, Herbology is going to be much more pleasant!"

"Go fuck-" But Lou's cut off when Maeve pulls him in for another kiss and that's when James and I take our leave.

There will be time to get the details later. For now, we'll let them have their moment.

* * *

 _Coming Up Soon: Some Valentine's Day aftermath, a birthday, the next Quidditch match_


	27. twenty seven

"C-Dub!" Freddy's positively beaming as he practically skips over to me in the Great Hall, later that night. "I had _the best_ -"

"Not now," James waves him off impatiently.

"Well that was rude," Freddy huffs, dropping into the seat next to me. Unsurprisingly, it's empty; we're some of the only people to return from Hogsmeade so early.

But there was no way James and I were going to let Lou and Maeve beat us back here and then avoid us for an indeterminate amount of time.

"Where's Meg?" I frown, peering around him. They _should_ have come back together.

"Do either of you care about me at all?" Freddy cries.

"You should know the answer to that," James snickers.

"It's not you," I assure Freddy, rubbing his arm gently. "We're waiting for-"

Freddy gasps loudly as Lou and Maeve enter the Great Hall, hand in hand. "Louis William!"

"-Lou and Maeve," I finish unnecessarily.

"Oi!" James shouts, waving them over. Lou makes to pull Maeve over to the Hufflepuff table, but she laughs and shakes her head, tugging on his hand until he follows her over to where we're sitting. "That wouldn't have worked, you know. We would have followed you over there,"

"What's a guy have to do to get some privacy here?" Lou mutters.

"Move away?" I try.

"Die, probably," Freddy muses.

James nods in agreement. "Meg would follow you anywhere you moved,"

"That's true," I concede. "She can't get you underground."

"Probably not for lack of trying," James grins.

"Where is Meg?" Maeve interrupts, before James, Freddy, and I can go any further.

Freddy shrugs. "She went up to the Common Room, maybe to bed, I guess?

Maeve and I take one look at each other before abruptly and loudly pushing ourselves up. "Where are you going?" Lou cries, as she and I start walking out. "You can't leave me here with them!" James and Freddy have matching grins on their faces and I'm sure that as soon as we leave, they'll be grilling him.

"Sorry," She says, sounding anything but. "I have to go check on Meg!" And she kisses his cheek, which does little to ease his grumbling, but does allow her to leave without any other complaints.

Expecting the worst (She saw Tim? She saw Tim _with another girl_?), Maeve and I are pleasantly surprised to see Meg sitting up in bed and laughing at something our (basically non-existent) roommates say to her as they breeze by us on their way to meet their Ravenclaw boyfriends for Valentine's Day part two.

"Hi!" Meg beams, as the roomies slip by us.

"Hello," Maeve says hesitantly.

Meg pats her bed excitedly, motioning for us to sit down and come join her, but then not waiting before she starts talking. "How was your date, C-Dub?" I had _the best_ day today! Freddy and I-"

I snicker, interrupting her. "No, I think Maeve did," And immediately, Maeve turns bright red.

Meg's jaw drops. "What happened?"

"Nothing," Maeve lies _horribly_.

"Liar!" Meg gasps. "Carson will tell me if you don't!"

"For once, I want all the details that you do," I shake my head. I am _dying_ to know what Lou said to Maeve in the street earlier today.

"He-" Her cheeks are turning pink again and the brightest smile is spreading across her face, but she doesn't stop. "He just-told me how amazing he thinks I am,"

"That's _it_?" Meg sounds disappointed.

"Bull shit," I call, bouncing on Meg's bed, so that we can _both_ fix Maeve with disappointed looks. "I was watching; that was more than-"

Meg cuts me off. "You said you didn't know!" She cries, accusatorily.

"I was watching from behind a pole!" This sends Meg into giggles and brings a soft smile onto Maeve's face. "Lou said a lot of things and some of them looked _very_ stupid," More giggles, from both of them. "So I don't really care about them, but what did he say at the very end?"

"He said he's never been more in love with me before," Maeve fails miserably at fighting back her smile, but it's overpowered by Meg's loud squeal as she leaps across the room to tackle our poor best friend. "Meggie!"

"That's so cute!"

"Meg," I try to pull her off.

"Oh, just wait until I get ahold of Lou!"

Unfortunately for him, she's really not kidding and upon arrival to breakfast tomorrow, she leaps right on top of him, shaking the whole table and sending breakfast food flying into everyone's laps.

Fortunately for Dan, it takes all the heat _off_ of _him_ , since he'd apparently disappeared with Vero once Lou had taken off on him.

Sometimes it's just your day, you know?

* * *

As March (and what _should be_ the start of spring, curse this forsaken country) dawns, the focus turns yet again to Quidditch, as our match against Ravenclaw approaches. James and I spend a lot of time coming up with a strategy, each arguing for different approaches-naturally, I'm pushing to stick with the stats, as they haven't let us down yet, while he's gone back to _insisting_ that we should focus on catching the Snitch.

"Ravenclaw's seeker can't-"

"Possession and control!" I sing-song, cutting off whatever nonsense he's about to spout.

"It's great to see the four of you getting along so well again," Professor Longbottom interrupts.

"Neville!" James grins pleasantly. "What brings your over to our humble abode?"

I bite back the laugh as Lou and Maeve come back from their own little world, huddled together across the desk from us. "Professor!" Maeve exclaims, sounding shocked, like she didn't even realize the rest of us were here _in Herbology class with them_. "What are you-I mean-why-"

"Hello Maeve," Professor Longbottom smiles kindly. "And to answer your question, James, what brings me to your _humble abode_ , otherwise known as _my table_ , is that while I'm happy to see the four of you getting along so well again," The last few months since Lou's original confession had been, to put it delicately, a little rough, here in Herbology. "It would be nice to see you all _actually do some work_ ,"

"Of course!" Maeve says, pulling the nearest plant toward her and burying herself into the work immediately, practically slapping Lou away when he tries to help.

Well, it seems like the honeymoon phase may have just ended.

James merely gestures to the mess of parchment in front of us, where Quidditch plays are hastily drawn as we'd come up with them. "We are working, Neville! Big match this weekend!"

"I know," Professor Longbottom says amusedly. "Important one you'll need to play in if you want to get noticed by scouts, except you won't be playing in _if you don't do your work today_ ,"

"Was that a threat?" James gasps.

"For all of you!" Professor Longbottom nods. "Toughen up, start paying attention, stop canoodling-"

"Canoodling?" Lou snickers.

Professor Longbottom nods. "Listen, I was your age once, too. I know what it's like to just starting dating someone,"

"Oh Merlin," Maeve turns bright red, burying her face in her hands

"First you two," He gestures to James and I, then across the table to Lou and Maeve. "Now you two. It's easy to get caught up in things!"

"I don't think we were ever like that," I scrunch up my face, looking at James, who's laughing loudly.

"I'd eat my hat if I thought you'd ever allow James to touch you like this," Lou snickers.

"Fair point,"

* * *

"Folks, it looks like Ravenclaw is playing the long game here!" The announcer's words barely register as I rush toward Scotty and James, throwing my arms around them excitedly. "Ravenclaw's MacDougall catches the Snitch, which is enough to send them to the Final but it isn't enough to make up for the damage that Potter, Wood, and Ross did! Gryffindor win an exciting match! We'll see you back in a few months for what's sure to be a thrilling re-match!"

"Fuck the Snitch!" I cry to James, as he and Scotty wrap their arms around my back and we end up spinning in this ridiculous circle.

"Hey!" James protests, as we start slowing down. "It's my birthday! Show some respect!"

Except hilariously, it seems Scotty has finally completely joined my side, at least on this one thing (since he still completely worships James on everything else), because he beams just a bit wider and shouts along. "Fuck the Snitch! Fuck the Snitch!"

"Betrayal!" James cries, as Scotty and I continue our chant while the three of us fly to the ground in our absurd heap of limbs and bodies.

Maddy's got that hint of frustration that only a Seeker who didn't capture the Snitch in a game her team still won could manage, but she's still smiling as Coop lifts her onto his shoulders excitedly. She points at James as Freddy and Fitz join in our chant and shakes her head. "I'm getting it next time," She promises.

"Damn right you are!" He grins, accepting her pinky-swear. "And you better be at my birthday party tonight, so we can celebrate!"

It's this promise that has her coming up to my and Meg's dorm in the middle of the afternoon, complaining that she has nothing to wear to a speakeasy themed party. "What does that even mean?"

We exchange a look. The theme had come from the contra-banned brewing the boys were performing, since they'd finally made a decent batch, and I'd made a Prohibition joke that no one had appreciated until I'd explained it all three times over (ugh, Brits). The speakeasy theme, however, had been an instant hit, and thus the Roaring 20s would return for one night only.

"Come here," Meg waves her in, getting to work instantly on her hair, which means that we're somehow still on time to meet the boys in the Common Room. "Positively dashing!" She beams, appraising them all in their fancy attire.

"I think Meg just wanted another excuse to wear a sparkly dress," Freddy teases, looking her up and down.

"Well, I'm certainly not going to say no to that!" She grins, twirling around too many times and falling; she's lucky he's right there to catch her. When he pulls her upright, she merely links her arm in his, making no move to step further away as she beams up at him.

Well that's an interesting development.

Maddy links up with Fitz, Scotty, and a couple of the other younger Gryffindors heading out with us (there is no way this party doesn't get busted tonight; this has been a wildly unsubtle migration to the Room of Requirement), leaving me standing alone with the birthday boy in the middle of the Common Room.

"We should just skip," James looks the fringed, red dress up and down.

"I think people would know if you were missing," I tease, stepping _right_ up to him to kiss him.

His arms wrap around my waist and he groans when I pull away. "Then you shouldn't have worn red,"

"Oh!" I cheer triumphantly as he groans again. "A weakness!"

He ignores me in favor of running his hands down my sides to rest on my ass, squeezing once as a tease until I jump, and he moves them back on my hips, laughing along with me. "Maybe we can leave early?" He bargains.

"Wait until you see your party before you decide you want to leave it," I tell him. The girls and I had put together quite a masterpiece, not to toot my own horn.

He looks me up and down again as we start walking. "I find it hard to believe there's anything I'll want more..." He trails off, as we catch up with other people.

But sure enough, it's me that's right, and along with the rest of our friends (and _many_ others), neither of us makes it back to the Tower that night.

* * *

"Do you think _La Escalera_ has brunch?" I look up at James hopefully, perfectly content to watch the rest of our group in their various states of hungover attempt to make their way back to school post-brunch. Tucked into James' side at the back of the pack, it's a nice, quiet walk on this chilly spring day, though occasionally hilarious when someone (usually Al) stumbles on absolutely nothing because they're just a bit too hungover.

"Dunno," James says, guiding us toward the alley without a word to the group. "Let's check,"

Our quick detour is made slightly longer as we're laughing, joking, and stopping occasionally to make out for a moment against a wall until one of us complains that our headaches are too strong (though apparently not strong enough to prevent us from starting again two minutes down the road). The smile hasn't left his face since last night, even through his raging hangover, or when he was throwing up this morning and I was laughing at him as he cursed at me while simultaneously telling me, "best fucking birthday."

So fucking sweet, James.

"It's a no," James confirms, tugging on the metal doors, as I try to peer through any available space to get a look inside.

"No!" I whine disappointedly.

"Have they lost favorite restaurant status already?" He teases.

"No," I sigh in the most Meg-like manner. She'd be so proud of my dramatics right now, honestly.

"Everyone has their strengths." He points out, linking our hands as we start walking back toward school.

"Exactly!" I say with maybe a little too much emphasis, before turning breaking out the sarcasm, though only a little because I'm dead serious about the quality of the tacos at _La Escalera_. "Colin's can have brunch. I'd hate for _La Escalera_ to sacrifice their _amazing_ tacos just for a breakfast burrito,"

"Merlin, I love you," He laughs, looking so fond, it's not even funny.

But then we both freeze and it's clear that even thought he _meant_ the words, he didn't mean to _say them_. The chilly air suddenly feels suffocating and heavy silence surrounds us until finally I blurt out, "I, um, yeah,"

"Carson," James pleads.

But I don't hear anything more from him, since I'm taking off running, faster than I've ever run before, and the only thing I can think is fuck him, because these laps he's made me run all year are finally paying off.

* * *

 _Coming Up Soon: Carson handles things the best way she knows how_


	28. twenty eight

"Chug, chug, chug, chug!" I cheer along with the crowd as Lou takes a knee to gulp down the forty that he'd been gifted.

To my right, Maeve and Freddy exchange a worried look. "Do you think- "Freddy starts, only to be cut off.

"Lou, Lou, Lou!" Their concern only grows as we all shout even louder. He finishes the bottle and stands up, arms raised triumphantly as the cheers grow.

"Champion, motherfuckers!" He cries, smashing the bottle on the ground. He accepts all the high fives as he makes his way through the crowd to come back to us.

"Sidewalk slammer," I cheer, ignoring Maeve's horrified look, and as such, mine is the last high five he accepts.

"Love," Lou grins, turning to her, but she merely takes a deep breath and reaches for another beer.

There's no shortage of beer or alcohol at this tailgate, but truly, there never is. Uncle Justin's letter inviting me to the Annual Blue and White Spring Quodpot game at the college that would have been his alma mater (had he not decided to skip altogether, move to Britain to play Quidditch instead, and break his mother's heart at the time-according to the story she tells every year at said tailgate) had arrived at the _perfect_ time-the day after James had...

Well, let's just leave it there, shall we?

I'd already been contemplating asking Dad to spend the break at the beach house, eager to clear my head and get some space from James, even a few weeks later, so instead I leapt at the chance to get even further away for spring break.

Freddy had been the first addition to the trip, happy to tag along with me to America and, in his words, "to make sure that you don't die during all that drinking," which at the time, seemed more like an excuse to come along and drink _with me_. Lou had jumped in when he'd found out Freddy was tagging along, and once he'd told Maeve his plans, she'd said basically the same thing as Freddy...and then been just as surprised as Lou and I when we all got here and found him being just as responsible these last few days of drinking as she was.

It had been a little bit of a crazy week so far, but _Freddy_ being just as responsible as Maeve, while Lou runs around slamming drinks back with me may be the wildest part.

Uncle Justin beams as he approaches, slinging an arm each around Lou and I. "The boys and I are going to play stump, you in?" The boys, being his friends from Ilvermorny, a large group of them having chosen to attend this school to continue their magical education at the higher level, making this their choice meetup for a reunion every year.

"Hell yeah," I grin.

"What is stump?" Lou asks.

"Flip a hammer and hit somebody else's nail into the stump; drink when yours gets hit," Uncle Justin sums up easily.

"Eh, yeah sure, I'll play," Lou grins, though I'm truly not sure he knows what any of that even meant.

"This sounds wildly dangerous," Maeve looks over toward the tree stump concerned.

"Are you in or out?" Uncle Justin confirms.

She looks down at her beer. "In," She sighs, clearly resigned to just falling deeper today.

"Maeve!" Freddy cries outraged

She looks back at him helplessly as we drag her over. "Help,"

Since it takes only the slightest amount of alcohol to make her drunk and anything more than that is frankly heading into dangerous territory (raise your hand up high if you recall the Dumbledore), her surprising affinity for the game of stump sends her quickly spiraling down to my and Lou's level, much to Freddy's disappointment.

Let's just say this bender that Lou and I have been on all week has gotten _a little_ worse for Freddy.

Watching a drunk Lou try to wrangle an _even more drunk_ Maeve into their room to go to bed is truly the highlight of the trip.

Freddy and I make it to our shared room in a much more dignified manner, thank you very much-singing loudly along to a _Purple Pygmy Puffs_ song in our wildly inebriated (me) and fairly tipsy (him) states.

I'd say it's a miracle Uncle Justin didn't wake up in all this ruckus, except he'd been so trashed at the post-Blue and White Quodpot game tailgate, that he hadn't even made it out to the bars with us.

I flop down on the bed immediately once we get in, waiting for the additional bounce that would signal Freddy is throwing himself down right behind me.

Instead, I hear the sound of his fingers tapping against his phone screen and I rush to sit up. "Are you texting her?" I accuse, since all week long he's been texting with Meg, but _only after I approve what he sends_ , thank you very much,

Seriously, some of those first drafts. It's amazing this boy has _ever_ landed a girl.

"No," He doesn't bother looking at me and suddenly it hits me.

"Are you texting _him_?" I glare.

"Yes," He answers, again without looking up.

"Rude!" I glare, and he stares at me incredulously.

He shakes his head, looking like he can't believe I'm serious. "Go to bed, Carson,"

"No!" I crawl down toward the end of the end. "What are you saying?"

Freddy sighs. "I'm just telling him you're okay,"

"Well don't tell him _that_!"

"Then what should I tell him?" He taps his fingers against the dresser impatiently.

"Don't tell him anything!"

"I'm not going to do that,"

"Well why not?"

"Because he's been really worried!" Freddy explodes, and I don't know if it's the tone or the volume that shocks me more, but he's back to his normal pattern of speech when he continues, though there's still a bit of a bite to it. "We've _all_ been _really fucking worried_."

"I-I'm sorry!" I say, because I don't know what else to.

"It's not me you should be apologizing to," Freddy says coolly. "And I'm not sure a stuttered apology is quite enough,"

There's silence around us when he finishes since I have no idea what to even say. The whole point of this trip was avoiding this issue, trying not to think about James or anything related to him, and here's Freddy confronting the issue head on.

Damn him and his Gryffindor-ness.

"Okay," I say quietly, looking down to avoid his piercing gaze, because it only brings up the thoughts that have been haunting me all week-what if I-or what if James-

What if it's too late?

"Oh fuck," I breath.

There's a sigh across the room and suddenly the bed is bouncing as he sits down next to me, passing me a glass of water. "Carson,"

"Fuck!" I repeat.

"You okay?"

"Fuck!" I shake my head, his words really sinking in.

What the hell have I done?

"I didn't- "He hesitates. "Come on, I didn't mean to cause a crisis; I just wanted to call you out a little,"

"Well it worked!" I cry. "Why didn't you call me out on this earlier this week?"

Before I did all kinds of stupid shit.

" _What_?" He exclaims.

"You let me get my nose pierced!" I accuse, pointing at the new piece of jewelry that has adorned my face for the last four hours.

"How is this my fault?" He throws his hands in the air defensively.

"You let me convince _Maeve_ to get her nose pierced!" I cry. Oh, god, she's going to kill us when she wakes up in the morning.

Freddy pales. "I'm fucked,"

* * *

It's late (early, maybe, either way it's still dark) when I climb out of bed, unable to sleep and letting myself slip out the door and down the hall until I reach the open patio. The slight chill in the air is gentled by the blanket I wrap around myself and I hesitate as I settle on one of the chairs, summoning all my courage before pushing the button I should have pushed before even coming over here.

"Are you drunk?" is the immediate response, before I can even say hello.

"No!" I laugh. "Well, maybe a little." There's no way the buzz from earlier has completely worn off.

His responding laugh is a little incredulous. "Yeah, of course you are,"

I frown. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Instead of answering, he lets out a deep breath. "Why did you call, Carson?"

"To talk to you," Because there are a lot of things I'm unsure of, but the desire to talk to him, just to hear his voice in my ear, hadn't been one of them.

He laughs again, but it sounds...almost hollow? "You can't keep doing this, Carson,"

"I haven't-this is the first-I-" I swallow. "I just wanted to talk to you,"

"Well it doesn't work like that!" James snaps. "You can't just call me up out of the blue because _you've_ suddenly decided you're ready to talk." I open my mouth to respond, but he's already continuing. "That's not fair,"

"No," I agree quietly, after a moment of silence. "It's not,"

He sighs. "You know what I want, Carson; I've laid everything out on the table. So I'll ask again: why did you call?"

"I-"I bite my lip. "I don't know,"

"Well when you figure it out," James says flatly. "Then let me know,"

"James-" I try, but it's too late. He's already ended the call.

* * *

"Hey, kiddo," Uncle Justin finds me in that exact same spot when he wakes up later in the morning, at an hour that seems far too early for how much he had to drink.

Since my current train of thought is just repeating James' words on our phone call over and over again, I call him out on it. "What are you doing up so early?"

"I could ask you the same thing," He says, sitting down next to me. I don't even wait for his arm to slip around my shoulders; I'm already turning in the chair to bury my face in his shoulder. "Funny thing about drinking so much when you're old; you can't sleep in like you used to," I laugh a little and he rubs my shoulder gently. "You?"

"Couldn't sleep," I answer vaguely.

"Because of Boy Toy?" He asks.

"How'd you know?"

"I figured once Freddy, Lou, and Maeve showed up with you, instead of him," Uncle Justin muses. "But didn't really know for sure until now. Thanks! Your dad and I have been talking about it since you got home and couldn't figure everything out,"

"Assholes," I mutter. "Talking about me behind me back,"

"Yep," He says cheerfully. "You wouldn't believe how much there is to say about you,"

"Assholes," I repeat, smiling slightly.

"Then tell me what happened so we don't have to talk behind your back,"

It sounds so simple when he says it and suddenly the whole story is pouring out. "-and I didn't _mean_ to hurt him, but I know that I have! I just-I don't know what to do!"

"It sounds to me like you actually do," Uncle Justin hints.

I stare blankly at him. "Well could you share then? Because it _sounds to me_ like I actually don't!"

He laughs, standing up and stretching. "Yes, you do, Carson. Think about it,"

I frown up at him. "I-do not like this shit advice you just gave and have no idea what to do with it,"

"Yes, you do," He insists. "Think about it,"

Ugh, doesn't he know I've been thinking about this since last night? I haven't been able to sleep because of this guy. His words, from last night all the way back through _the month of_ _December_ have been rolling around in my head. Despite all my best efforts, I haven't been able to stop thinking about him.

 _I pierced my nose because of him_! This is the most insane panic move since...since...

Since I ran away when he told me he loved me.

"Shit," I breathe.

"There we go!" He grins, watching the realization grow over my face. "Now come on, let's get everyone else up and grab food,"

Finally, something simple.

* * *

Dad reaches out and helps himself to one of the beers sitting in front of me.

"Hey!" I protest.

"You have plenty!" He shushes me.

"Fine," I grumble, as he sits down next to me. "Just don't take the Golden Hippogriff,"

"You mean the Golden Hippogriff that _I bought_ for you?" He says pointedly but makes sure his beer isn't the one I'd requested.

"Excuse you," I stick my tongue out at him. "The _Easter Bunny_ brought these for me!" At his look, I grin. While technically true, the beers had only been brought by my dad and Alicia so that Colton (and possibly Erin, no one's quite sure about her yet) wouldn't lose faith in the Easter Bunny.

And so, my Dad and Alicia had spent last night hiding three children's worth of candy-filled eggs and a bunch of craft beers for their oldest to find.

Life wasn't bad, sipping on my cold beer up here in the country estate, watching my siblings open their Easter Eggs and trade for their favorite candies.

"Ahh, yes," Dad says. "The Easter Bunny. The one who you tackled this morning en route for said Golden Hippogriff,"

He's grinning as he teases me; when he'd jumped into our Easter Egg Hunt this morning, it had quickly gone cutthroat. "Golden Hippogriff is my favorite beer and Alicia said you got all different ones! When you rushed for it, I did too; I came to play today!"

"I could tell," Dad says, sounding entirely too proud considering. "I just didn't think you'd be willing to slide tackle me for it," He rubs his ribs only semi-teasingly.

"Well that was poor judgment on your part because I spent seven years as the only child of a professional athlete," He laughs. "So, I have double the competitive spirit _and_ no sense of how to lose gracefully."

Dad merely snickers. "Carson Graceless," He teases, breaking out the old nickname he and Uncle Justin had bestowed up on me as a clumsy child.

"Do not tell my friends that," I warn him. "They will never let it go. I'm already getting all kinds of shit since Uncle Justin told Freddy and Lou that my lullaby was _Tipsy_ ," That song had been Puddlemere's victory song for the 2004-2005 season, thanks to some interesting customs brought over by Uncle Justin.

It's also, according to both Dad and Uncle Justin, the _only_ song that they knew the words to at the time.

Raise your hand if you're at all surprised I turned out the way I did.

"Not even James?" Dad says innocently.

"Don't," I warn, since the topic was still pretty sensitive.

"Fine." He sighs. "Don't talk to me about anything,"

"I- "I bite my lip and then take a long sip of beer. "Come on, dad,"

"Fine," He laughs. "That's not what I came over here to talk to you about, anyway. I'm sure Justin has covered that topic in depth, already,"

"Actually, his advice was shit; please share your wisdom,"

Dad shakes his head. "You just didn't like it," He ignores my glare. "Perk up; I came over here to talk to you about a job offer,"

I startle back. "Sorry, what?"

"A job," He repeats. "You know. That thing you'll have to do after Hogwarts?"

"Uhh, okay," I say slowly, too shocked to be annoyed by his comment. "But you know I don't want to play Quidditch. Like not even just for you, so don't even take _that_ personally; I don't want to play pro at all,"

He nods. "I want you to come do stats for us,"

"Sorry, what?" I repeat. The words echo in my head but somehow their meaning doesn't click.

I blame Colton, making me get out of bed at 7am to hunt for beer and Easter Eggs in the backyard.

"I want you to do stats for us." Dad repeats. "What you're doing at school with James is incredible. It could change the whole game,"

"There are no Team Statisticians," I say slowly, because the use of Advanced Quidditch Stats is still relatively new, let alone what I'm using them for at school. "So what-why-how would this even work?"

"Like I said," Dad says, looking excited. "It could change the whole game,"

* * *

 _Coming Up Soon: The Quidditch Final is almost upon us, Carson's got some thinking to do, Freddy is shocked._


	29. twenty nine

The walk from the Potter's gate to the front door seems longer without James by my side, but no less beautiful. In fact, with the trees and plants in bloom, there's a whole new look to this path that I'd missed on my first trip up to the Potter's house.

But I really didn't come here to appreciate the effort Professor Longbottom put into their garden (that Harry and Ginny _somehow_ manage to keep alive, despite their black thumbs, according to James).

When I reach the doorstep, I don't hesitate before ringing the bell.

It's been four weeks and three days of thinking (well, technically, three weeks of thinking, and another week and three days to actually build up the courage to come over here), but I'm absolutely certain about it.

I am in love with James.

Merlin, it sucks to be wrong, doesn't it?

No fucking wonder Liam claims to hate hanging out with us, since all he _gets_ is shit for being wrong all the time.

The door opens before my thoughts can get side-tracked any further and my breath catches when I realize it's actually James.

I thought there'd be a little more time before I'd have to actually face him.

Maybe I'm not as ready for this as I thought.

He looks behind him, craning his neck to look even further, and then gently pushes me backward so he can step outside, closing the door quietly behind him. "What are you doing?" I ask, as he guides me even further away from the door, practically into one of the bushes in the path.

"My dad's cousin and his family are over for the annual visit," He scowls, and I suddenly recall him describing what a...pleasurable...experience this was for all parties involved.

"We can go somewhere else," I offer.

"I'd love to," He says honestly. "But I think Mum would off me,"

Which, fair point. From his description, it was hard to tell which of his family members was _most_ miserable at this get-together, but his mom was a top contender.

Of course, so was his dad. And James. Albus too.

Really, it was a tough choice.

"Can't blame her," I nod, and he tries to glare at me, but it turns into a smile. "What? There are times I want to off you too!"

"Yeah? Well, fuck you too," James teases and I'm just so thankful that we're back to this that I can't help but say it.

"In this bush?" I sigh dramatically. "Alright, but only _because_ I love you,"

To his credit, he doesn't even flinch when the words come out of my mouth.

To my own credit, I don't even blink, even though this was not even close to how I expected this to go down.

When the words do register, he starts to grin and suddenly his arms are wrapped around my waist. "When did you figure it out?"

"When Freddy yelled at me," I return his gesture, leaning in as close as possible.

"Freddy yelled?" He sounds as surprised as I'd felt at the time. "What'd he say?"

And how on Earth do I sum up the waterfall of feelings he'd drummed up? How he'd made me realize that James is so much more than a boyfriend, more than a best friend. That he's both scary and comfortable.

He feels like this constant presence that will always be there pushing me forward and making me better. He feels like all the best things and all the things I can't live without.

He feels...he feels like home, in all the best ways.

"He just-he just called me out on all my shit," I smile up at James. "Well, him and Uncle Justin and I'm so sorry because you deserve so much better-"

James throws his head back and groans as the words of my rant catch up to him, cutting me off. "Justin? Really?"

I nod. "Well yeah, I tell him everything, even if he does give shit advice,"

"He's going to kill me," James says, matter-of-factly.

I shake my head, knowing exactly the moment he's thinking of, a moment that, yes, I had shared with my fake uncle. "Well, he probably already would have, if he was going to do that,"

"Seriously?" He cries.

"We're very close!" I exclaim. _Now_ , he's shy about sex? "Come on, like they hadn't guessed! We go to boarding school!"

"Just promise you won't let Justin or your Dad murder me," He says.

"I think Dad likes you better than me, so sure, easy," I nod.

"Meh," James' eyes narrow. "Unconvinced."

"Just remember," I smile sweetly. "That they love me, and I love you," And that immediately softens him. "But actually, they're both too excited about your homemade whiskey to kill you,"

He brightens immediately, and it's like my love for him _means nothing_. "That's right!"

"Asshole," I say fondly, standing up on my tippy toes to kiss him.

"And yet," James says, like the asshole that he is. "You love me anyway."

"Merlin help me," I mutter against his lips before kissing him properly.

* * *

"It's time to talk strategy," James announces to our compartment.

I look over at Freddy, who's resting his head in Meg's lap as she runs her fingers through his (recently very short) hair. "Is it safe to do that here?" Freddy asks hopefully, clearly looking for an out.

"You say that like I'll even know what any of what you're talking about means," Lizzie laughs. "A Hoppin' Wilt-"

"Harper Wilde," I correct, by habit.

"Whatever, " She waves it off, then looks at Freddy. "So, yeah, I think you're fine, since I don't know the names, let alone what they mean,"

"Also, we're team Gryffie," Vero says. "Well, Team Carson, so Team Gryffie by default I guess,"

"Rude," Freddy says, feigning outrage. "And I thought we were friends, V!"

"Meh," She shrugs. "We're okay,"

My girl.

As is typical when Quidditch is being discussed, James is 100% focused on the sport and has no tolerance for our nonsense. "So back to the plan."

"I don't recall discussing numbers," I frown, because we'd actually done _a lot_ of things in that bush in front of his house (and then in the broom shed in back of his house, what what), but discussing Ravenclaw's Quidditch stats was _not_ one of them.

"Nah, this is just basic math," James waves me off and I give him a look. "No, listen." I give him another look. " _Listen_ ," He stresses. "For the Claws to win the final they would need to catch the Snitch _and_ score 12 goals. So _we_ go on the defense! They're going to be aggressive trying to score, so we've got to be aggressive on the forecheck, that's where you come in, and try to force them to the sides where Scotty and I can challenge them to stop them from moving forward. We don't even need to score if we have the Quaffle; we can just pass back and forth between the three of us to eat the clock up while Maddy searches-"

I groan and am surprised to find that I'm the only one. "Ugh, _no_ ,"

"It's the best way to win!" James argues.

"We have the talent to win offensively and it's shit to play conservative to protect the lead when we have the _ability_ to completely overtake it,"

"It's an effective strategy!" James maintains.

"It's just very unlike you to pull out this early-80's Wigtown trapping nonsense," I say heatedly. "That's a terrible way to win. It'll be boring, first of all, and it's _so simple_. We're better than that and more importantly, Ravenclaw are worse than that! It's absurd to purposefully put off scoring when we can put on a much better game than that!"

" _That game_ is a guaranteed win!" James exclaims.

"Nobody wants to watch _that game_!" I look around me. "Right?"

"What is early-80's Wigtown trapping nonsense?" Maeve blinks.

"That was actually less than helpful, thanks, Maeve," I nod sarcastically as James grins triumphantly.

"We'll win with my way," He grins.

"Your way is the bitch way out and we are better than this," I argue. "And I will have the numbers to prove this by the end of the week."

He pulls me into his lap, confident in his victory. "Uh huh, sure,"

* * *

"Fuck you," I mutter under my breath, as we round the turn for our _fifteenth_ lap.

"Isn't that your job?" Coop manages to pant out.

"I thought-"Freddy starts, gasps a large breath of air, and then finishes. "That things would be better since you were back together now."

I frown. "James wouldn't let something as trivial as _our relationship_ affect Quidditch,"

And if that wasn't the truth. There was absolutely no difference in the James of now, the James of those-four-weeks-we-don't-speak-of, and the James pre-birthday. At least at Quidditch practice.

He was still utterly unreasonable when it came to running laps.

With the increased number of laps, our running group collapses at the end, and the look of disappointment on James' face would be comical if he weren't so serious. "Get up."

"I love you," I try, and hear the boys under me all breathe in hopefully.

"Cute," James says. "Get up."

"Asshole," I pant, pushing myself up reluctantly, knowing that he's getting ready to work us all to the bone for the rest of practice, despite his continued plans to spend the Final playing the most boring game of trapping Hogwarts will have ever seen.

It's much of the same for the rest of the week, which means that as Freddy and I grow tired of his absurd attitude, we make up excuses about why we can't walk down to practice with him to get a little time to ourselves to gossip _about_ how absurd he's being.

And get a little time to gossip about everyone else, but what James doesn't know in this case, won't hurt him.

"Meg's been acting really weird," Freddy laments, on our way to practice, one Saturday morning, about a week before the actual Final match.

I frown, because, uhh, no, she hasn't. "How so?"

"She just...she's been super awkward?" He says hesitantly. "And I don't think she's met my eyes in at least a week!" Hold on. "I mean, I know I'm tall, but I don't think she's ever had a problem looking this high before!"

"You idiot!" I breath.

"What?" He asks, annoyed.

"She wants you kiss her, holy fuck, how did you miss this?" I cry.

Watching the realization draw over his face is worth literally everything James is about to make me do at practice. "Holy fuck," He repeats, the sweetest grin growing on his face.

"What are you waiting for?" I gesture behind us. "Go get her!"

"But-" He gestures in front of us.

I wave him off. "I'll cover for you. Go!"

He's beaming as he starts to jog away from me, back toward the Tower "Thanks, C-Dub!"

James' eyes narrow immediately as I arrive to practice alone. "Where's Freddy?"

"He had something to take care of," I stare him down. "He's going to be a little late."

James frown, clearly trying to decide what he can get out of me, but evidently decides it's not worth it, choosing instead to set the rest of us off on our laps and taking his usual place at the front of the pack.

Freddy arrives just in time for Fitz, Coop, and I to finish our laps, scooping me up right when I would normally collapse to the ground and spinning me around in a circle, laughing the entire time and pressing a smacking kiss against my lips when he finally sets me down.

"Uhh," James says.

"Huh?" Fitz frowns.

"Ew!" Coop pulls a face.

"What the hell?" I cry. "Am I the second girl you've kissed today?"

"Yes!" Freddy beams excitedly. "Thanks to you!"

I gag, throwing my arm around James and pulling him in for a kiss. "What was that for?" He glances over at Freddy and then back at me.

"Cleansing my palate." I wipe my mouth, sending a glance over to the still beaming Freddy.

James sighs and rubs his temples. "Oh, Merlin, give me strength,"

* * *

It seems like perfect balance when the morning of the Final is just as perfect as the morning of our first match of the school year. It's not overly sunny, there's very little wind, it's neither too hot nor too cold, and despite the current season, it hasn't rained in days.

Optimal Quidditch weather.

Looking around the locker room at this team that I love more than almost anything, it's hard to believe how much we've grown from our first game. Maddy and Scotty are not only better players, but more confident-they're sitting in the locker room right now, heading into the Quidditch Cup Final, looking as calm as can be. Coop looks poised to have a breakout season next year that should get him a few offers for the reserves of a few teams. Fitz and Freddy have never been so in sync.

And then there's James.

He looks calm and focused as he looks at last minute notes in his play book, but there's nothing for him to even change. He's ready, _we're ready_ , and he knows it.

James had confessed to me last night how strange it was for him, to be preparing for his last game ever at Hogwarts. He'd joined the team as a baby Second Year and now six years later, he was preparing to walk out to his last game, waiting to see if (not if, what, I'd insisted, because I was sure there would be) he'd get offers to play professionally.

It was the first time I'd seen him nervous about something.

Thankfully, it was gone by the time we'd woken up this morning. A nervous James would have been bad for team morale.

Since, you know, it was frankly unheard of.

Instead, he was his usual focused and motivating self. He'd shoved a meal in front of Maddy, who'd pushed it right back at him in favor of a different one. He'd tried to give Freddy, Fitz, and Scotty last minute tips on the game today-unsurprisingly, Scotty was the only one receptive to anything he'd had to say.

Finally, I'd grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the Great Hall, surprised to find that we were followed by Freddy and Meg. She was beaming as she walked with him hand in hand, the warm spring weather allowing her to show her team spirit in one of his practice jerseys, a Gryffindor scarf, and leggings.

It'd been exactly a week since they first kissed and honestly, she hasn't looked happier since I've met her.

Their fake fighting about the smell of Meg's borrowed jersey ("It's the stench of victory!" Freddy insisted, and Meg tried her hardest to rub said stench in his face) brought a smile to my face as we made our trek to the pitch and I leaned closer into James's side as he wrapped his arm more tightly around my waist. Freddy slung his arm around my shoulder, pulling us both into him, and suddenly the four of us were a mass of limbs, laughing.

"Hey! Over here!"

At the sound, we'd looked up, following the voice. It was Uncle Justin, and a flash went off as soon as we'd all looked. "What the-"

"Thanks," He grinned, lowering the camera. He was dressed in official team gear, and it occurred to me, just now, that my dad was probably there as well.

From the sudden steely look on James' face, the thought had already hit him.

"Well once again," I'd said, as we all collected ourselves. "Thanks for letting me know you were going to be here."

Uncle Justin had grinned. "More fun to surprise you,"

Freddy had laughed, and I flipped him off, but then James was grabbing my hand again (the other one, he'd let me keep flipping Uncle Justin off as he pulled me away) and that's when I realized, it was time.

And now, as we line up by the door, in our usual order, in our usual routine, I can't help but reach out and squeeze James' hand. He grins down at me, squeezing mine back. "Hey," I say.

"Hey," He nods back.

"We're going to crush them." Because the numbers don't lie and there's no way we won't.

"Fucking right we are," James agrees.

"Even if it will be the most boring game of neutral zone trapping Hogwarts has ever seen," I goad and before he can respond, the announcer is calling our names.

The match is everything we thought it would be and Ravenclaw have come out with a vengeance after our last game. They fight to take control of the Quaffle and like planned, I go aggressive with the forecheck forcing Dylan Davies to throw to his right, looking for Alison Mayer and finding James there instead, whose long arms snap the interception easily. And if I'm honest, expectedly.

What's unexpected is the way he begins immediately taking off down the field, which was _not part of the game plan_ to essentially just pass the Quaffle around to give Maddy time to search for the Snitch.

With a grin, I push forward, speeding to catch up to him. I snatch the Quaffle as he whips it over to me and return it to him just as quickly, and then we set on a race down field of speedy passes between us.

Ravenclaw's Keeper stays at the ready, but he loses sight of one important thing-Scotty-so he's as surprised as everyone else when James drops the Quaffle and Scotty is there to pick it up and easily shoot it right into the center hoop.

The crowd goes wild but for once, I barely even hear it as I grin at James. "Some game plan!"

"Fuck the plan!" He shouts back at me. "I want an STSR so unbelievably high no one even believes it's real!"

Fuck, I love him.

But this is...so not the time.

So instead I settle for, "Fucking finally!" as we move back into position.

From then on James plays like a man possessed and his energy is positively magnetic, contagious-whatever word you want to use that will somehow describe how truly amazing he is. Because when people talk about a player making their teams better, they need to look no further than James in this game.

After his tenth goal (an impressive leap off his broomstick as he dodged a bludger and tossed the Quaffle in at the same time), I stopped attempting to count both our Harper-Wilde's at the same time in favor of calculating his.

It was already clear that he was doing something special.

In fact, it's so special and exciting that Maddy catches the Snitch and has to race over to us, arm raised over her head, the most excited look on her face.

James drops the Quaffle suddenly, realizing what's happened and I hear Coop yell, "Champions, motherfuckers!" before Fitz is crashing into me, sending us both careening into James and Maddy. Freddy's huge frame is quick to pile on and by the time Coop reaches us from across the pitch we're spiraling downwards in tangle of crying, laughing, cheering limbs.

The final score of 460-80 will go down in the Hogwarts history books, but James' Harper-Wilde of _86%_ is what I'm most amazed about.

He's got all the smiles in the world as he finally makes his way over to meet with the scouts and unable to help myself, I call over as Freddy and Meg are dragging me away, ready to start the victory celebration. "Hey!"

He turns. "Yeah?"

"STSR, 123!"

James gives me the biggest grin. Around him, about half the scouts look wildly impressed and the other half look incredibly underwhelmed.

Ugh, the old school crowd.

And on that note, I've officially earned myself a drink.

* * *

The minute James enters the Common Room, everything stops to erupt into the loudest cheer of the entire day. From our spot across the room, we can't see anything, except the crowd parting as he makes his way toward us.

"You don't even have a drink!" Freddy demands, somehow managing to see from where he's sitting, with Coop on his lap and me on Coop's lap.

The advantages of being tall. What a life.

James shrugs. He's still grinning, but it's a different kind of smile than the reckless, winning beam that the rest of us have on our faces.

He looks...settled. Content.

Under me, Coop and Freddy look wild, thrilled, and excited. The contrast is clear.

So when he gives the slightest nod of his head in the direction of the staircase toward the dorm, I grab two of the beers that Liam has just put on the table and make to follow him, feeling blessed that our friends are so deliriously happy (and drunk) that the arrival of more alcohol is much more thrilling than making fun of James and I sneaking off (for once).

Instead of going all the way up to their dorm, James stops on the steps about halfway up, high enough that the noise level has dropped enough to talk, but close enough to see the entire Common Room still. He drops onto one of the steps and I sit down next to him, passing him the beer.

He doesn't immediately start talking, choosing instead to take in the scene in front of us, with this crooked half smile on his face. But after a moment, I can't take the silence. I know exactly what this is about. "How many did you get?"

"Four," He takes a large gulp of the beer. "And two more said they would send final offers this week once they talked to management,"

"That's incredible, James!" He shrugs, and I give him a look. "Well, don't be an asshole about it!"

He sighs. "Yeah, you're right,"

"Twice in one day?" I place my hand over my heart. "Stop the party; quick, someone alert the Prophet!"

"Alright, Meg." I flick his arm at his teasing and he laughs.

"Who gave you an offer?"

"Wigtown, the Cannons, Kenmare," He trails off.

"And?" I prompt, thinking I already know the last one.

"Your dad," He finishes, and I nod. "Did you know?"

"No," I shake my head. "But it doesn't surprise me. Billings' contract is up this season and I know they weren't planning on extending it."

There's a long pause after that, where neither of us says anything as we watch Freddy pull Meg onto the dance floor, lifting and twirling her with no regards for anyone around them.

"What are you going to do?" I ask him, looking over.

"What are _you_ going to do?" He returns, meeting my gaze. "We haven't-we never talked about this. We should have talked about it."

I bite my lip and look away. Lou and Maeve have joined the dancing, which has sent Vero away, laughing as she settles herself into Dan's lap back in our circle of chairs. Maeve's shouting something we can't hear over the music, but Lou pulls her into his arms and she smiles up at him.

If Vero _can_ hear anything Maeve yelled, she ignores it, in favor of starting to make out with Dan.

Around the room, the rest of our friends look equally as happy and satisfied. Lizzie is surrounded by a group of Coop's friends, playing a drinking game (and losing terribly). Liam turns the charm on to one of the Sixth Years that he hasn't dated yet (I think). Freddy and Meg have calmed their exuberance down on the dance floor and just look positively elated to be in each other's presence.

Truly, the perfect couple.

"No, we didn't talk about it," I bite my lip. "And we're not going to yet,"

James frowns. "Carson-" He makes to argue, but I cut him off.

"What I'm going to do can be done from anywhere," I say quietly. "I don't-you need to make this decision on your own, without taking that into account, and do what's best for you. The max salary for a rookie is set; you need to look at what kind of play time they can offer you, if it's a starting position or a bench position, what kind of coaching and-"

"I got it." It's James turn to cut me off. There's no doubt he's already thought about these things, but in this moment, I can't help but ramble about them.

It's so soon after the last problem that I'm not sure if we're ready to handle another one.

Truly, I'd expected him to put up more of a fight about this-to push more about what my plans were or even at the very least, for him to press me more for my thoughts about what he should do.

Instead, he merely asks, "So where does this leave us then?"

I swallow the lump in my throat and shrug. "I don't know,"

* * *

You guys. You guys! This is the second to last chapter! I am in total awe that it's gone this far and can't believe it's ending!

 _Coming Up Soon: the end_


	30. thirty

I pull a face, taking in the room around me. "Can we at least take the banner down?"

"Absolutely not!" Alicia exclaims, sounding scandalized, as she looks up at the banner she'd had Colton and Erin make earlier this week, in order to get them out of her hair while preparing for this (unasked for) party. _Happy Got Ya Carson_ is spelled out perfectly, with a few of the tails of the a's on the opposite sides, where Colton had mixed them up (and they'd forgotten the word "day", Erin had announced regretfully, once they'd already completed it and she'd added the appropriate amount of glitter).

"For the record, I was against the banner," Dad says, despite the fact that he is currently using his wand to fix the corners _exactly how Alicia asked_.

I snort. "Yeah, it looks like you put up a real fight for that one,"

"When _you_ get married, you'll understand the need to pick your battles." Dad retorts.

Freddy snickers, from where he's arranging the silverware at the kitchen table. "We may be waiting a while on that one,"

Dad chuckles. "Let's see. Three days when a boy told her he liked her, four weeks for an I love you. You want to take bets for when one proposes?"

Freddy's eyes light up as I cry out, "Dad!"

"What? That was funny!"

"Alicia!" I whine.

"Oliver," She says exasperatedly, but Dad is blessedly saved by the arrival of Aunt Angelina, Uncle George, and Roxy.

"We come bearing cake!" Uncle George cries.

"There's nothing wrong with it," Aunt Ang immediately adds, which apparently is something that needs to be clarified, judging from the looks of relief on Dad, Alicia, and Freddy's faces.

"There _wouldn't_ have been anything wrong with it!" Uncle George huffs. "I wanted to make Carson's Got-Ya Day _special_ and put some fireworks on top, but _noooo_ , that's a "fire hazard" and "dangerous to consume"!" His use of air quotes has me giggling. "When did you get your nose pierced?" He cries, when he turns around at my laugh.

"Spring break!"

He sighs dramatically. "See, Ang? We skip one Hogsmeade weekend and we don't see these kids for 4 months and suddenly she's a whole new person,"

"You should have seen me right when I came back from spring break!" I tell him. "I put a fake tattoo on my arm, so Dad would be less mad about the nose,"

"That's brilliant!" Roxy beams.

"You're a monster," Uncle George frowns.

"Finally!" Dad cries, thrilled that someone else is finally not charmed by my sass.

"Hey!" I protest, looking at Dad. "Don't talk that way about your new statistician!"

"You don't start work until Monday," He waves me off. "I'll talk shit about you until then,"

"Who are you kidding?" Freddy grins at him. "Like that's going to stop you?" They fist bump, so naturally I choose the mature response.

I flip them both off and go to find Alicia and Aunt Ang in the kitchen before everyone else arrives.

* * *

Somehow, I sense her coming before I even feel Meg jump on my back, so when her legs wrap around my waist, I merely grab them and keep walking, continuing on my trek through the backyard. "C-Dub!"

Alicia has, once again, outdone herself decorating the Country Estate and everything looks beautiful. It's a beautiful day for a barbeque and she's prepared accordingly.

"Meggie!" I return her enthusiasm, for once. It's been far too long since I've seen my best friend. "How goes the search?"

Freddy's announcement that he was going to ask Meg to move in together after graduation had come as a surprise to me, our friends, and everyone we knew. I'd cautioned him against it, yet for every reason I'd given him not to, he'd given me a flawless and airtight reason why they should.

"There are no surprises," He'd finished with, following up a statement about her being his best friend. "And I don't want to waste any more time,"

When he put it like that, there wasn't much more room to argue.

"Ugh," She groans, because best friend or not, their opinions on what constitutes a "good apartment" have vastly differed thus far. "Don't."

"That bad?"

"Could you _please_ tell your best friend that _we need_ an open floor plan in the apartment?" She slides off my back, falling in step with me. "He is totally fine with walls. Walls, Carson! _Walls_!"

I laugh, because I can _see_ the look on Freddy's face as they fight about this in the middle of an empty room. "Where have you landed on island vs. peninsula?" The look on her face is enough to answer that. "Got it, don't bring it up,"

"I mean, if you could make some subtle mentions toward open floor plan _and_ peninsula, that'd be cool," Meg grins.

"Because that's a word that comes up so often. Peninsula,"

"Is she trying to get to you?" Freddy bangs his fists on the table in protest as we arrive, clearly having caught at least that last part. Either the motion or the noise catches the attention of both Lou and Maeve, who both look exhausted having started law and healing school respectively earlier in the summer.

It's been kicking both their asses so far

"I'm not trying to get to her! Carson's just on my side!" Meg exclaims.

"Sorry, _what_?" Freddy cries. "Since when?"

"Since she's my best friend!"

"She's _my_ best friend!"

"You have James!" Meg tugs on my arm.

"Oi." Lou manages, half-heartedly.

"I get Carson, remember? We agreed!" Meg finishes, ignoring Lou completely, as usual.

"I do not remember!"

"Well you were drunk!"

"I would like to be drunk," Lou mutters, managing to stand. "I killed myself with homework so I could be trashed today; I am not about to waste this afternoon listening to you two bicker when you're both wrong. Open floor and island is obviously the only way to go,"

As Meg and Freddy look ready to comment and continue their discussion about the open floor plan, the decision to follow him and Maeve to the drinks table is an easy one.

It turns out to be an exciting one, since that's where we find Lizzie, Vero, Dan, and Liam.

"Happy Got Ya Day!" Dan cries, lifting and twirling me.

"Put me down, please,"

"But this is so much more fun!" He pouts.

"Can we throw her in the lake later?" Liam asks excitedly.

Dan nods. "Let's do it!"

"Her is right here!" I point at myself, even more annoyed when they continue making plans to throw me in the lake later like I'm not standing directly in front of them.

Assholes.

Vero's eyes narrow at me as I turn my gaze over to her and Lizzie. "You left me alone with the creepy neighbors,"

I grin over at my new roommate. "Terribly sorry," I'm not. "I had to come help get ready for the party,"

"What did you do to help get ready for this?" Lou asks skeptically.

"I mixed the sangria!"

"Yeah, that sounds about right," Liam snickers.

"Ok, but have you tried it?" Lizzie giggles. Flushed cheeks, happy smile, but no slurred speech yet-she's on her third glass. "Because she did amazing! You could do this professionally!"

"People do," Liam says cheekily. "It's called bartending, love,"

The following giggle is a little louder. "Nope," Lou says, pulling the cup out of her hand. "Cut off,"

"Unfair," Lizzie protests.

"It's for the good of everyone," Maeve agrees.

"I'm staying with Carson and V tonight, so it's not like I have to worry about waking anyone up when I go home,"

Vero snickers. "I'm going to go with Maeve on this one about the 'good of everyone,'" Lizzie pouts. "We're barely unpacked; it's hard enough to get to the bathroom sober!"

"That is a true statement; I tripped three times last night," I nod in agreement, fighting back laughter at the memory of V coming out of her room with her wand in one hand and a high heel in the other, ready to attack the potential intruder.

She'd fallen on the floor in tears, unable to fight back her howls, at the site of me tangled up in boxes of clothes we had only half unpacked.

It was honestly such a sight that it was barely a minute of me glaring at her before I'd joined in.

"Ugh," Lizzie groans, before declaring, "I'm going just to sleep in the bathtub tonight,"

The look on Lou's face when she says so is probably the greatest thing I've ever seen, until...

"Like you've never slept in a bathtub before," Vero scoffs.

Until then, when Dan and Liam are suddenly making the same face as Lou.

"You've _all_ slept in the bathtub."

Vero, Lizzie, and I all nod. "It's not bad," Vero shrugs.

"Very comfortable if you do it up right," Lizzie adds.

"I did it like three times a week the entire month of February in my Sixth Year," I nod.

"You know, that actually doesn't surprise me at all," Dan says.

"I keep forgetting we didn't know you then," Liam blinks. "So when you drop weird things like that, I start wondering what kind of shit we got up to that I forgot about before I remember that _we_ didn't; just you,"

"It snowed a lot that month!" I protest. "What else do you do besides drink and sleep in a blizzard?"

"Evidently, Ilvermorny has a much more lax policy on snow than Hogwarts," Lou snickers.

"Oh yeah," I nod. "Absolutely they do," For as I'd discovered last year, Hogwarts continued classes through rain, wind, or snow (whether it be one inch or twenty), while Ilvermorny cancelled their classes when the snow got too high because of the layout of the school (and the nature of the walking between buildings).

It had been a shock, to say the least, having to continue to go to classes when there was three feet of snow on the ground.

I'd been ready to sit by the fire and drink all day until James and Freddy told me we still had school.

"America seems to have a much more lax policy on everything," Liam laughs.

"Well," I hem.

"Actually," Lou starts, and I'm sure he's ready to go off on this tangent about some of the laws MACUSA has in place right now (but only sure of it because we've talked about it a lot recently).

"Their vaccine rate-" Maeve starts.

"You know, I see Sofia just got here with the kids so I should go say hi to them before Uncle Justin can call me out on it," I grab another glass of sangria and make my leave before those two can get going.

Gee, those two start grad school and suddenly they're _soooo smart_.

* * *

The second time a pair of arms wrap around me, it's entirely unexpected. I'm talking with Katie and Alicia when they suddenly slip around me, but I recognize them instantly, turning around and returning the hug.

"You smell good," I curl into his hug.

James laughs, the vibrations through his chest a comforting sensation against my cheek. "I showered after training,"

"Good choice. "I sniff again, enjoying the combination of fresh sandalwood and James, before switching gears. "Good session? Dead yet?"

"Obviously not," He huffs, definitely over my enjoyment at how hard this new strength and conditioning trainer works him.

Freddy and I had _howled_ with laughter when he had gotten home from the first one and barely been able to move. _Howled_. For probably a full hour.

I truly think James would have walked away from us, if he could have mustered up the strength to walk.

James' decision about which team to sign with had come after an agonizing week of pros and cons. He'd hit some highs and lows that week emotionally, trying to decide where to go (and then again, with me, trying to get me to change my mind about not telling him anything until he'd made his own decision).

It was only after he'd settled on Puddlemere that I told him about the stats position, only to be immediately tackled onto his bed in all his excitement.

"Just really sore?" I tease, feeling the tenseness in his arms. The conditioning coach had been a suggestion of my dad's, not as a coach, he'd claimed, but something he wished he had started earlier in his career-and it would certainly help make the transition from Hogwarts level to professional easier and smoother.

"We did this rope thing today!" He whines. "Keep my arm on your shoulders; it's the only way I'll be able to lift a beer anywhere close to my mouth today,"

"Poor baby," My gentle rub on his back is a huge contrast from my mocking tone. "Living your dream,"

"Fuck off," He protests into my hair. "You're living yours too,"

Since he's technically right, I don't push the issue any further. "Want to go sit down with our friends and make fun of the bags under Lou's eyes?"

He blinks, pulling away. "Yes, that would be wonderful!"

* * *

When it's late, and everyone has left, and Dad has finally convinced Alicia to come sit down and join us, rather than cleaning up, that's when I finally have a chance to reflect back on this day. Dad's got one of his arms around Alicia's shoulders as she leans into him on the one couch while I sit with my legs draped over James' lap in the large, comfy chair across from them. Erin and Parker are, for once, not fighting, and Colton is perfectly happy to lie with James and me.

And as I sit leaning with my head against James' shoulder and Colton's resting against my knee, the feelings of happiness and contentness are coming in waves. Despite my initial resistance to having this party, it was a great excuse to see everyone and there's certainly no denying that Alicia knows how to put on a good party.

"We got you a gift," Dad pulls me back to the present and his words remind me that aside from everything I may feel about having this party, he and Alicia are just so happy I'm here and proud to have me. I could not have imagined them or this move being so wonderful when I'd come here and they're both a huge part of it.

I reach out to accept Dad's offering. "Is it the beach house?" I ask hopefully. The joke had been one I'd started making the day I came home from school, hoping he'd just turn it over to me so I'd have a shorter commute to work. It'd been thus far unsuccessful.

"Haha, nice try," He says. And another bust, apparently.

"Well you've already adopted me," I grin, ripping into the envelope. "So what could it-oh Merlin!"

"Shit!" James grins, reading over my shoulder.

"We're not buying you a house," Dad gives me a look. "You're going to need to put some money down for that on your own. But we did think it would be nice for you to put some roots down here." I look back down at the parchment, detailing the ownership of some shares in James' new brewing company-his other post-graduate venture.

"For James' side hoe?" I grin, not really surprised that this is the business Dad had decided to support when gifting me stock shares-both due to the business' mission and its ownership group.

"What's a side hoe?" Erin asks innocently, looking between us.

James freezes underneath me and Dad glares over, but I respond, without hesitation. "Sido, it's the name of his brewing company,"

"Smooth," He mutters.

"That's a stupid name," Erin tells him, amongst all our laughter. "Keep looking,"

"Will do," He reassures her.

"Erin is a great name," She continues sassily.

"I'll keep that in mind," James nods seriously, as we all fight back laughter.

"I'm serious!"

"I think," Alicia interrupts, before she can push that issue any further. "It's time for bed,"

"What?" She wails.

"Why?" Colton whines. "I want to see James more,"

"He'll still be here tomorrow!" Alicia stands up, ready to herd them all inside.

"He will?" Erin asks excitedly.

"Can he sleep in my room?" Colton begs.

"Absolutely," Dad nods, while Alicia answers at the same time. "He has a place to sleep already,"

"Dad!" I cry in protest.

He laughs, standing up to help Alicia get my siblings ready for bed. "Had to try,"

"Rude," I flip him off and James laughs when he ignores me completely.

"You guys up for some beer pong after we get them to bed?" James and I don't even have to look at each other to nod-we're always in for games and competition-so Dad beams at them and says, "Excellent. James and I are going to crush you guys, Carson!"

"Screw that! You don't know any of each other's moves. You're going to bonk heads before we combine for ten," I declare.

"Guess we'll see," Dad says, sounding much cooler that I know he feels. I can tell from the slight bounce as he speaks that the adrenaline is building; he's getting amped. "Go set up downstairs; we'll meet you down there soon."

The feeling hits me once, as James and I are making flirty comments to each other while we set up the game in the basement. It hits me again, as Dad and Alicia arrive, shoving each other to get down the stairs faster. And it hits me yet again (repeatedly actually) once we start playing and the four of us just start talking shit and making dives to get the ball, in the most absurdly competitive game of beer pong between four adults that anyone has ever seen.

This is the happiest I've ever been and I'm so lucky to be home with these amazing people.

* * *

The end! Holy hell, I can't believe we're actually here. I just want to tell you all how amazing you are and how much all the support throughout this has meant! Thank you all for reading and/or reviewing; they are all so so appreciated!


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